


A Broke Movie Screen

by sleepingalone



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood, Blood Drinking, Bottom Harry, Fisting, Fluff, Gay Sex, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Power Bottom Louis, Riding, Smut, Top Louis, Vampire Hunters, Vampire Louis, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:29:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepingalone/pseuds/sleepingalone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boy with the curls bumped into Louis, head snapping up as he took a few steps back to regain his balance, eyes wild and surprised.  Louis couldn’t help but notice the brilliant shade of green that they were, reminding him of natural, pretty, sceneric things.  Things like trees and grass and rolling hills you only saw on TV, framed by fluttering lashes.  </p><p>“S-sorry, didn’t see you there,” the boy mumbled, taking out an earphone as he registered Louis.  </p><p>Louis didn’t reply, instead lost in his own thoughts, the majority of which were <i>blood</i> and <i>green</i> and <i>wow his voice is really deep</i>. </p><p>---</p><p>Or, the unorthodox tale of a vampire and his lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Broke Movie Screen

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: TEARS  
> If angst isn't your thing you can just read up until it switches to Harry's POV. I don't want you accidentally reading something that you didn't sign up for alrighty. 
> 
> This took me way too long to write and was originally gonna be short and smutty but then I was feeling shitty and it took a darker turn. Oops.
> 
> Oh and I based the vampires from The Vampire Diaries AND Supernatural. Though mostly TVD. You don't have to have watched either of the shows, it explains everything that needs explaining right in the fic don't u worry. 
> 
> Title from Lana Del Rey's Because Of You. You should go listen to it. 
> 
> Well um. Have fun! And I don't own One Direction or anything blah blah please don't sue me.

Louis admitted that the circumstances under which he met Harry Styles weren’t the most romantic, but he was happy that it had happened nonetheless.

Louis could feel his stomach eating away at itself, the hunger almost unbearable now. It had been almost a week since he had last had anything to feast on, mostly because he was rather picky about his choices, but now he didn’t really give a crap what came by. He just needed to quench his thirst. 

It wasn’t the easiest thing for him to get the nutrition he needed - he couldn’t really find what he was looking for at the nearest Tesco. Well, to be fair, it was easy. It was just hard to cover up his tracks without leaving some sort of trace behind. You see, Louis Tomlinson was vampire, and had been for almost two hundred years, ever since the day that he had been turned by a vampire who believed that they would be the next superior race and take over the world one day. 

Louis was still waiting for that day.

For now, all he had to do was make sure no one found out what he was, because there were those out there who did know of the existence of vampires, and wanted nothing more than to bring them all down. And Louis wasn’t cocky enough to think that he was more powerful than them, though he had brought down a fair number. He had even taken extra precautions by going through the grueling process of making himself immune to vervain, one of the few poisons that could be used to weaken vampires, by constantly injecting himself with it in small amounts and building up until he could stand the dosage a normal hunter would give. 

At the moment, though, Louis was sat on the bench in the empty park, a small playground behind him and a trail in front, the vivid colors of flowers and such up ahead. The sunlight wasn’t a problem for him, thankfully, just an awful myth. But why wasn’t anyone here? It was the middle of summer, for fuck’s sake. There should be people here. People he could make a meal of before he died of hunger. Or whatever would happen if he didn’t get any blood. He considered going over to a mall, or something, but that seemed like it would take too much effort, and he was much too tired to be bothered doing something like moving a muscle. 

Suddenly, a familiar scent pierced his senses, the scent of _blood_ , making his head jolt upwards to see who it was. It all smelled the same, really, there was only a slight difference here and there. This one had a faint sweet smell lingering behind, almost girlish. Louis told himself that he wouldn’t be picky this time, that he’d just have to go and get his fill, even if it was some crinkling old lady. He couldn’t afford to be picky at this point, he felt like his limbs were going to fall off from the pure exhaustion of trying to crane his neck. 

The owner of the scent came into view and Louis was surprised to see a young lad, earphones plugged in, jogging, curly hair barely contained by a headband and flopping about in the wind, dark lips visible from here. It was almost mesmerizing, the pattern of muscles under his t-shirt shifting with each movement, his gaze focused concentratedly on the spot immediately in front of him as if trying to avoid tripping on his lanky limbs. As the boy got closer, Louis prepared himself, ready to stop, distract, and attack. He could hear the lad’s heartbeat now, could almost picture the blood running through his veins, and he started to feel slightly dizzy as the smell got even stronger the nearer the boy got. 

“Hey!” Louis called out as brightly as he could when the boy was only a few feet away. He got no response, the boy continuing to jog, focused too intently on his music. What a waste of a perfect, well-thought-out greeting. 

Louis forced himself to get up, surprised when he found himself right in front of the boy. He could already feel the hunger stripping away his sense of control over his actions, his body moving at it’s own supernatural speed. It wouldn’t be long before it went into autopilot, all vampire and no Louis, and the thought made Louis nervous. One of the times that had happened, Louis had killed four people, one of them barely five years old, with a rage fueled by the death of a friend who had been killed by hunters. The guilt had wracked Louis for days on end.

The boy with the curls bumped into Louis, head snapping up as he took a few steps back to regain his balance, eyes wild and surprised. Louis couldn’t help but notice the brilliant shade of green that they were, reminding him of natural, pretty, sceneric things. Things like trees and grass and rolling hills you only saw on TV, framed by fluttering lashes. 

“S-sorry, didn’t see you there,” the boy mumbled, taking out an earphone as he registered Louis. 

Louis didn’t reply, instead lost in his own thoughts, the majority of which were _blood_ and _green_ and _wow his voice is really deep_. He towered a good head above Louis as well, having to look downwards slightly to meet Louis’ gaze with his own cautious one.

“Hello? Earth to Mr. Stranger?” the boy asked, a slight smile playing on his full cherry lips, and Louis couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. 

“Hi, sorry, I just...what’s your name?’ Because for some reason, that seemed slightly more important than the gnawing in his stomach and his trembling fingertips at the moment. 

“Harry. Harry Styles,” the boy said, his smile growing into something less nervous looking, revealing dimples. Louis could still hear his heart beating at an accelerated rate, though it was probably due to fact that he had just been jogging. “And yours?” 

“Louis,” Louis said, trying to regain some of his composure back. He probably looked like a right fool at this point. Even though he would be the one attacking the boy, Harry, in just a few short moments, hopefully. He never killed anybody, always making sure to cleanly get his fill without causing any permanent damage. Besides the one autopilot incident, of course. Once he had had enough to drink, he would simply compel whoever it was to forget what had just happened. Louis could never get over how fun that power was. “Now, you wanna sit down for a moment? You look downright tired.” It wasn’t a lie, either. There was sweat pooling across Harry’s forehead and his breathing sounded slightly laboured, some of his curls matted to his forehead. 

“S-sure,” Harry said right away, slightly stuttering, and Louis couldn’t figure out if it was because he was nervous or tired. It was always fun to give people a bit of a scare, to see their response when he told them that he was a vampire, that he’d drain them of blood and leave them to die. He never really did kill anyone of course, but still. It was rather entertaining to see the reactions people had to the thought.

He followed Louis over to the bench, taking a seat beside him and pulling out his other earphone as well, giving his full attention to Louis. 

“So, what’s a handsome lad like you doing out here by yourself?” Harry asked casually, his words seeming to stretch out for ages, and Louis wondered if that was how he greeted every random stranger he came across in parks on quiet days while he was jogging. A small part of him hoped not. 

“Nothing much, it’s just a nice day, I suppose.” Louis turned his head to meet Harry’s green, green eyes, and the urge to just sink his fangs into the pale skin of his neck only intensified. He turned his head away again quickly, not wanting to attack him just yet. He actually kinda wanted to get to know this Harry, for reasons unknown. But he could hear the loud pulse of his blood flowing through his veins and he let out a groan, completely torn. He was sure he would come across another curly-haired boy with a gravelly voice in the next eternity that was his life. He could still get to know this guy afterwards, actually. 

But Louis was slightly worried about if he would be able to stop drinking. He couldn’t kill this boy, he’d have to find someone else. He was slowly losing trust in himself with the shaking of his hands and the quickly growing urge to suck the life out of this innocent, adorable young lad. 

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, voice laced with so much concern that it was as if Louis was someone he’d known for more than two minutes. 

“Nothing, just hungry,” Louis muttered, starting to get up. Yeah, he really didn’t trust his hunger at this point. Going all the way to where someone else might be seemed much more doable now. Someone whose life probably meant much less than that of this poor kid who had just happened to be jogging in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

“I have a banana,” Harry quickly offered, seeming the pull the yellow fruit out of nowhere. Louis barely stopped himself from cringing, not even questioning why he had been carrying a banana around. God, human food didn’t smell appealing in the least. On the other hand, the sweet scent of Harry’s blood…

“I-I have to go,” Louis quickly made out and stood up abruptly. He was about to make his exit when suddenly a large hand gripped his arm, long fingers wrapping all the way around it. He could easily pull away, of course, but the hand was so _warm_ and he could feel the pulse flowing through it and wow it would feel really good to just sink in his fangs and, fuck. He really, _really_ needed to get out of here. 

Nonetheless, he turned back to face Harry, almost involuntarily, to meet his gaze again, those beautiful eyes lined with hurt. Louis gave him a questioning look, his patience withering, and Harry burst into monologue. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything, I don’t know, you don’t hate me or something, do you? I barely know you and I wanna get to know you and I didn’t even get to -”

_“What?”_ Louis interrupted his rambling, utterly confused. What in the world was he going on about?

“Well, I mean, you just seemed upset or something when I pulled out the banana, I don’t know,” Harry mumbled, a slight red tint rising to his cheeks. Louis closed his eyes to steel himself, not sure if he even wanted to bother explaining anything to this Harry who appeared to be extremely emotionally unstable. Maybe with a side of downright crazy. He didn’t really want him killing himself or anything now, that would defeat the purpose of Louis getting out of here. 

“No, no, of course I don’t hate you,” Louis said hurriedly, trying to not-so-obviously shake off the grip Harry still had on his arm. He didn’t seem to get the message and left it there, the warmth emanating from his touch making Louis want to scream in frustration. “I just, I have to go, seriously.”

“Why?” Harry asked, all innocent and puppy-eyed, staring up at Louis as if he had just threatened to kill a butterfly. 

“Because, I just, I have to go somewhere,” Louis said, finally freeing his arm and starting to take a few steps back. 

“Can I at least get a number?” Harry asked earnestly, biting his lower lip as he stared up at Louis with those wide green eyes. Louis took in a breath and ran anxious fingers through his hair, trying to distract himself from the smell of blood and the sound of blood and, fuck, he should have just devoured the graying middle-aged man who had come by earlier. 

He finally let out a tired sigh. “Yeah, just let me -” 

“Here,” Harry said, smoothly pulling a slip of paper out of his pocket with his number scribbled across and _Harry Styles_ scrawled above in neat, curled penmanship. Harry Styles. The name seemed to be meant for saying aloud, it rolled off the tongue so perfectly. Louis vaguely wondered how many people out there he had given his number to.

“Thanks, I’ll just, text you later, or something,” Louis muttered, offering Harry a half-smile as he pulled the piece of paper from his hands. 

All of a sudden, the smell of blood grew unbearably strong as if he had been dunked into a pool of red, his vision blurring at the edges as his eyes focused in on a small cut on pale skin, blood slowly pooling to the front. How fucking cliche. A paper cut. Right here. Right now. 

“Ow!” Harry cried out, sharply pulling away his finger with a chuckle. He glanced up at Louis and then back at his finger, about to say something that would most likely somehow be flirtatious, but then did a double take, his eyes refocusing on Louis’ frozen form. “Um, Lou?” he asked uneasily, and Louis might have wanted to grin from ear to ear at the nickname Harry had coined if he wasn’t so focused on the red starting to leak down Harry’s finger, the faint sweet scent before now prominent, surrounding him and sending a pounding through his head. He just wanted to try some of it. Some of the red that was about to leak down onto the grass, about to go to waste. He could feel his rapid loss of control, grains of sand slipping easily through his fingers, and knew that whatever happened next would be anything but good.

“Harry,” he made out hoarsely, trying to say something useful like _get the fuck out of here before I kill you_ , but Harry simply sat there, cocking his head to the side, his number long forgotten. Louis bit down on his lower lip, shutting his eyes and ignoring the way his fangs dug into his own skin, trying, trying, _trying_ to distract himself, but the smell and the hunger and even the sound of Harry’s breathing was all too much, and Louis could feel his last bit of resolve collapse as he surged forwards, grabbing Harry’s hand and letting his lips wrap around his bleeding finger. 

The touch of blood to his parched tongue was heavenly, and Louis wanted to just relish in the feeling of that first taste, the relief that washed over his body, the instant calm he felt. It was sweeter than he’d even imagined, there was no way this boy could be normal, blood had never tasted this amazing before. Harry…

Louis pulled away instantly, eyes wide, tongue darting out to quickly lick the blood staining his lips. Had he really just...fuck. He couldn’t make himself look at Harry’s face, didn’t even want to see what would be there. Hurt? Confusion? Fear? Louis normally loved knowing that he could scare the crap out of others, but with Harry, he wanted anything but. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t seem the type to deserve anything like that, he was just so...innocent. 

Instead, he let his gaze drift to Harry’s hand, which was paler than the rest of his body, if possible. Louis tried to figure how much blood he had taken, if it was a dangerous amount, but it couldn’t have been more than a second, could it? Harry should be fine, Louis could just make him forget. Maybe they could start over once Louis had gone somewhere else and gotten a proper fill. But he wanted more of _this_ blood, this sweetness, this beautiful red against pale skin as if Harry’s skin was made to contrast so perfectly. He was anything but satisfied, the anxiety starting to build up again rapidly because he really was still rather hungry. He was surprised he had even been able to pull away this time, giving credit to the fact that he actually gave a care for this Harry for some reason. This Harry who he really wanted to get back to feasting on. 

Still, he didn’t want to risk anything, so he took a seat beside Harry again and forced himself to speak, to compel this boy to forget everything. “Harry, you-”

“So you’re, like, a vampire?” Harry interrupted in a hoarse whisper, still managing to drag out the words three times longer than the average human being should. But then again, he obviously wasn’t the average human being, being so casual about vampires and all. 

Louis risked a glance up at Harry’s expression and did a double take of his own, surprised to see the awe there, the slight trace of a smile visible, eyes wide in wonder. 

“Are you fucking crazy?!” Louis half-screeched, and Harry visibly shrank back, eyebrows furrowing together and his smile dropping. Louis felt a slight pang of guilt for his harshness, but extreme situations called for extreme reactions. “You shouldn’t be sitting here asking stupid questions like that! Run! Go! Do something! Do you want me to hurt you!?” Louis was having a proper fit now, arms flailing about, feeling very out of control. He wouldn’t be surprised if the bench beneath them collapsed. Why wouldn’t this boy just fucking _leave?_

“But you won’t,” Harry said matter-of-factly, sounding like a little schoolboy who refused to admit that Santa wasn’t real. Louis wanted to slap him across the face. 

“And what makes you say that? Hm?” Louis asked, anger and fear and _what the actual fuck is going on_ all jumbling together in his brain into something he couldn’t even categorize. 

“Cuz I trust you,” Harry stated, staring at Louis with such sincerity in his eyes that Louis was at a loss for words. 

“I barely fucking know you, don’t go all cheesy romance on me,” Louis hissed sharply. “Do you know what I even want to do right now?”

“Um, drink blood?”

“Yes, you idiot, drink blood. But not just drink it. I wanna drink and drink and drink until there’s no blood left in you, until you’re completely drained and you’re just a limp, lifeless body. I want that, somewhere inside of me, and it’s gonna happen if you don’t just go, cuz I’m really, _really_ hungry.” Louis ended his small speech with a not-so-subtle show of his fangs, completely unintentional, of course. But Harry still wouldn’t budge. 

“So, you’re just gonna kill someone else instead?” he asked, much too thoughtfully for this situation, as if he was a psychologist trying to get to the root of the problem. Louis heaved a sigh, eyes darting back to the cut on Harry’s finger which was starting to leak blood again. 

“Yes, so please, go, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“But you won’t,” Harry repeated, insistent green eyes boring into Louis’. “You stopped once, you can stop again.” Louis let out a sound that couldn’t be described as anything but a growl, slamming his own head against the back of the bench. He could feel the dent it left on the faded wood. 

“Are you suicidal or something, Harry Styles? Do you like me sucking your blood?” There was a moment of silence and Louis had to open his eyes to look at Harry again, whose gaze was focused on the ground as his face turned beet red, his mouth opening and closing as if looking for the right words to say. 

“Well, I mean, like, it’s like, I don’t know, like, hot?” Harry mumbled, the words barely audible over the thundering beat of his heart. The sound of pounding blood was slowly bringing Louis to the possibility of an attack again, maybe on that smooth expanse of pale skin at the base of his neck, but Harry’s words suddenly registered in his clogged-up brain. 

“W-wait, what?” Louis asked, at a loss for words for the first time in...well, ever. Besides the few times that had already seemed to happen with this Harry Styles. 

“I want you to bite me, okay? Whatever you want, I don’t know. But you won’t hurt me, I know that,” Harry said, eyes never leaving his sneakers. Louis looked him over, not sure what to do. This wasn’t the reaction he had expected. At all. 

“And how could you possibly know that?” Louis asked, voice tense as he still tried to decide if he should just go ahead and drink, because he didn’t think he could really leave now. His body seemed fixated on staying here with the boy with curls, even if it meant possibly hurting him. But Harry was right, wasn’t he? He’d stopped before, so couldn’t he stop again once he’d had his fill? But memories of not remembering and losing control and being all blood-sucking monster and no Louis were making him cringe, and he just wasn’t sure what the hell he was supposed to do in a situation like this. 

“Cuz, I trust you,” Harry repeated, and his gaze nervously traveled back up to meet Louis’ eyes, the green seeming more intense than ever before. 

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, more to himself than to Harry as he tore his eyes away, because he _couldn’t_ , he couldn’t trust himself, this stranger didn’t even know him, he didn’t know what he was even saying, Louis wasn’t trustworthy, he had the potential of being a murderer. Hell, he _was_ a murderer. “I can’t, I can’t, I’ll hurt you, I can’t control myself right now, I don’t wanna hurt you,” Louis made out, feeling small and pathetic and at a loss of control, but at the same time he felt all too powerful and dangerous and completely uncontrolled. If he didn’t wanna hurt Harry, why wasn’t he just getting up and leaving in the blink of an eye?

“But then you’ll just hurt someone else,” Harry said, and Louis’ head snapped up because, _oh_. 

“So that’s what this is about? You just wanna be a hero and have me kill you instead of someone else?” Louis asked, and it was meant to be harsh but it was more disbelieving. This kid thought he was a martyr or something, didn’t he?

“No, no, I just -”

“I’m the doing the killing, alright? I decide who deserves the live and who doesn’t, and you definitely don’t deserve anything bad, so I’m not gonna hurt you, alright?” Louis asked, finality in his voice. Now all he had to do was move his lead-filled bones, somehow. 

“Then go,” Harry said, purposely glancing down at his finger (it had to be purposeful, it seemed like something the little fucker would do) which was now dripping blood again, the red hitting the blades of grass below in what seemed like slow motion, going to waste, and making Louis take in a sharp breath. “Or you could just stay here, and have some of my blood?” How was he so casual about all of this? It was almost as if he made a regular encounter with starving vampires and somehow seduced them into feeding from him. Louis glanced back up to be met with curious and excited eyes, not a hint of fear on his face at all, lips obviously trying to contain a smirk. Harry was like an open book. 

“I…” Louis glanced back down to the vivid red, the smell intoxicating, then back up to Harry, eyes landing somewhere on his neck where he could almost see the blood moving beneath pale skin and, “fuck it.”

Before he even knew what he was doing his fangs were deep in Harry’s skin, chiseled jaw against Louis’ ear, hands gripping shoulders desperately. All of his senses seemed to be heightened as the sweet goodness filled his mouth once again, so much more this time, so much warmer, so much better. He registered the barely muffled yelp of pain but didn’t stop, knowing that Harry would get used to it soon enough, and either way, he had been to one to instigate this. Louis barely held back a low moan, the feeling of having a warm body beneath him just _too perfect_ , and he felt like he could explode from the high that blood brought him. 

“God, Lou,” Harry gasped, but it didn’t sound as if he was in pain, as his words were instead laced with lust. Wow, he really did get off on letting vampires bite him. 

He continued to suck and suck, letting the sense of ease fill his every bone and feeling his strength returning, and he knew that if he wasn’t careful, his iron grip on Harry’s shoulders could easily crush everything it held. But he couldn’t seem to get over just how perfect the taste was, the feeling in his mouth, and he never wanted to stop, despite what his frenzied brain was trying to tell him. He could feel Harry’s grip on him weakening, his body becoming more pliant, and it was when Harry let out a pathetic little whimper that Louis quickly pulled away, panic and dread suddenly overriding the ecstasy he had been feeling sheer moments before. 

Harry’s head fell forward to rest in the crook of Louis’ neck, and Louis was thankful to hear his breathing, even if it was somewhat strained. He glanced down to see where he had left a mark, two small, clean cuts from his pair of razor sharp fangs. He wasn’t used to having to comfort someone after biting them, probably because he never normally took in so much blood from one person. But he was still hungry, somehow. He rubbed a hand in soothing circles on Harry’s back, nuzzling his face into the mess of soft curls and peppering small kisses there, if only to try to get his heart to stop beating so frantically because it honestly sounded like it could erupt from his chest at any moment. 

Finally, the warm breaths on Louis’ neck started to even out to those of a normal, healthy human being, who wasn’t missing a bit too much blood, and Harry slowly pulled back a bit to look up at Louis from under feathery lashes, legs bent and splayed behind him on the bench, managing to make himself look smaller when Louis knew that he really towered over Louis’ tiny figure. 

“Canyoukissme?” he half mumbled, half slurred, as if he was in a drunk faze, and Louis found his lazy state absolutely endearing for some reason. He ran light fingers through his dark ringlets, mussing them up further and proving the stupid headband useless, and didn’t know what he was doing when he nodded, the reaction seeming to be almost natural. Why shouldn’t he kiss this strange beautiful boy he’d only just met and almost killed? 

Harry seemed to take his time as he grasped the side of Louis’ face with one large hand, clumsy fingers brushing over his left cheekbone and green eyes staring up at him as if he was some sort of angel. Ironic, when Louis was the complete opposite. Louis slowly lowered his face until he was mere centimeters away from dark lips, almost red from being bitten raw. 

“Sorry,” Louis heard himself murmur, and Harry looked absolutely confused for a moment. “I almost hurt you, I could have -” 

“But you didn’t,” Harry said quietly, voice resembling sandpaper, and before Louis could protest, or point out the slight trace disbelief in Harry’s voice as well, the final bit of space was closed between them. 

Louis had had his fair share of kisses over the years, many of them quite lust-filled and spine-tingling, but he had never experienced anything like this. Ever. 

It felt as if his body was on fire, as if he was drinking blood again, but it was just the hot pair of lips moving against his lazily, not even seeming to have a purpose, just simply brushing against Louis’ with idle movements. He felt his hand on Harry’s back pulling the boy closer, pushing their lips together with more force, and he had to remind himself to be gentle because Harry was so fragile compared to him that it was rather scary. 

Harry seemed to have a burst of energy at the shift, mouth falling opening slightly and tongue eagerly pressing against Louis’ lips as his other hand came up to grip the hair at the base of Louis’ neck. Louis let out a surprised chuckle into Harry’s mouth and let his own mouth fall open, letting Harry’s tongue enter and brush against his teeth. He realized a moment too late that he should have given a warning of some sort when Harry let out a sharp intake of breath and quickly pulled away while Louis could feel the small jolt of electricity that ran through him at the contact Harry made with one of his fangs. 

“Shit, sorry,” he mumbled, letting his eyes open to see Harry holding a hand to his mouth and pulling away with blood on his fingers. Harry simply grinned at Louis, not seeming to give a care in the world. Who was this boy? “How are you just so absolutely calm about, like,” Louis gestured wildly in the air, looking for the right term. 

“Vampires?” Harry provided, and Louis nodded eagerly. 

“Yeah, why do you act like this is a normal occurrence or something for you?”

“Because it is,” Harry drawled out, lips twitching up into a smile, and Louis honestly wasn’t sure if he should take him seriously or not. “Now, can we continue?”

Louis cocked his head to the side. “But, I hurt you, my fangs, they -”

“Forget your bloody fangs,” Harry snapped jokingly, before breaking out into a full grin. “Get it? Cuz they’re bloody? But I could’ve also just been using the term ‘bloody’ as a way to -”

“Yeah, yes, let’s just continue,” Louis announced, cutting off Harry and feeling slight second-hand embarrassment mixed with a bit too much adoration. He was like a puppy, this one. Or maybe a kitten. Either way, Louis really wanted to keep him. 

\-----

It had been almost three months since that fateful day at the park, and Louis was rather content with his life. He had a beautiful boyfriend, a beautiful flat which he shared with said boyfriend, and a beautiful life which seemed to have come out of some stupid unrealistic rom-com that Harry would force them to watch because it was “something that couples are supposed to do together.” (He had thought he was so hilarious by choosing _Twilight_ for them one night. Which Louis didn’t mind as much as tried to make it seem because it made Harry happy. Louis was a hopeless and absolute failure in life.)

“So you really don’t mind that I’m a vampire?” Louis had asked incredulously after bringing a horny and clingy Harry back to his flat that first day. “It’s not weird or too fantastical? It’s just, like, normal to you?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Harry had replied simply, already ridding himself of his attire in the middle of Louis’ kitchen, and that was that. 

His cherry mouth could do a lot more than kissing. 

Louis had imagined that the curly-haired boy would be just a shag, a one night stand, something of the sort, because he seemed like the type with the way he had so effortlessly gotten into Louis’ pants. But when he woke up the next morning tangled in lanky limbs and the smell of strawberry shampoo, he let himself add a bit more kindling the small spark of hope that maybe, _maybe_ this could be more than just a shag. Because for some reason, he wanted to lay in bed with this strange boy and his strange jokes for the rest of eternity. 

Quite rapidly, the two grew closer through drinks and personalized mix-tapes and talking about anything and everything. It should have been alarming, the rate at which they developed from complete strangers to best friends (with wonderful benefits), but it all seemed to just flow so naturally. They rarely brought up the fact that Louis was a bloodthirsty monstrosity, besides when Harry rarely (quite often, actually) mentioned that he absolutely loved the feeling of Louis’ fangs in him, which came as a surprise every single time the words left his mouth because, well, who the fuck would like something like that? But Louis didn’t mind it in the least because he had a constant supply so he could avoid getting too hungry again, the taste was amazing and just _Harry_ , and the little noises Harry made were almost as delicious as the blood itself. 

Harry did ask once, though, in an endearingly shy manner, what Louis’ life had been like before becoming a vampire. Louis had proceeded to talk about his life back in France for almost the entire night, growing up in the early 19th century and how normal everything was in comparison to now. How naive he was back then about the happenings of the rest of the world around him. He considered leaving out the bit where he was actually turned into a vampire; the gnawing hunger, the ferocity with which he killed one of his own sisters in a haze of red that he could barely recall now, running off to England to start over. But he didn’t, feeling like it was important for Harry to know everything about him. And besides, it was nice to have someone to talk to about these things for once, to hold him and shush him while he tried and failed miserably to hold back tears. (Harry pinky-promised him that he wouldn’t tell a soul that Louis Tomlinson actually cried occasionally.)

It was only a month after they met that Harry had asked, somewhat shyly, if Louis wanted to move in with him. It was rather pointless for them to have two flats when they never slept apart, and it did give them an excuse to spend even more time together doing random nonsense and screwing each other on every other flat surface, so of course Louis agreed. 

Two weeks later Harry had come in with stupid red roses and a wide grin and asked if Louis wanted to have the honor of being his boyfriend. Who was he to deny? They were basically a couple already, living together and doing almost everything else together as well. It wasn’t like he could say no to anything Harry asked, anyways. Including the time Harry had asked with large, hopeful eyes if Louis could come with him for his monthly manicure. Because Harry Styles apparently did things like that. 

He’d never been in an established relationship before, one where he was exclusively seeing a certain person and wasn’t picking up pretty boys in clubs every other night. He sometimes fretted over worries that he wasn’t doing something right, that some hunter would come up and ruin everything, that Harry would realize one day what a monster he was. He couldn’t imagine something like this lasting for more than a few weeks, but, well, here he was. 

He was completely head over heels for an absolute idiot. A very endearing absolute idiot. 

So now Louis was sprawled on the couch watching some shitty comedy, waiting for Harry to get back from his job at the bakery. Louis was able to simply “buy” whatever he needed by compelling cashiers and he had offered to do the same for Harry, but the boy was adamant on earning his own money. “It’s not fair to cheat in life like that,” Harry would scold Louis as if he was a young schoolboy who had come home with a bad grade. 

“It’s called beating the system,” Louis would retort, and it always seemed to lead to them making out and taking it to the bedroom. Everything seemed to lead to that, as a matter of fact. 

Louis could make out the sound of Harry’s footsteps travelling towards their door, slow and lazy, going uneven as he undoubtedly tripped on something invisible. Louis let out a fond little chuckle as he heard the jingle of keys falling to the ground right outside their door and the exasperated little sigh Harry let out, not understanding why everything the boy did was so absolutely adorable. 

The door finally swung open and Louis could hear Harry step in and drop his keys on the table. “Babee, I’m hooome,” he called out, voice cracking a bit at the end. He heard Harry shuffling around and he finally stepped into the living room. Louis glanced over at the doorway to meet endless legs clad in black jeans that more closely resembled leggings, a red and black plaid shirt, wild hair held back by a cream-colored headband, and a face grinning ear to ear as it did every single day, green eyes alight as he plopped himself down on top of Louis’ legs. 

“Oi! Watch it, you could hurt a lad,” Louis snapped, wincing dramatically even though he could barely feel Harry’s weight on top of him. But he could definitely feel Harry’s breaths when he lay himself down on top of Louis, head coming up to rest in the crook of Louis’ neck and legs dangling off the end of the couch. His larger body seemed to completely swallow up Louis, and as much as Louis complained that Harry was too tall, he kinda liked feeling smaller and less powerful sometimes, even if the latter wasn’t necessarily true. 

“Wish I was a vampire,” Harry murmured into Louis’ neck, nipping playfully, and Louis scoffed, shoving lightly at Harry. 

“Careful what you wish for,” Louis sing-songed, wagging a finger at Harry even though he couldn’t see it, too busy trailing his tongue and teeth up Louis’ neck, all hot and damp. He dragged his teeth ever so lightly over the underside of his jaw and Louis let out a badly contained moan, bucking his hips up sharply to meet Harry’s, forcing a low whine from the younger lad.

“But I do,” Harry breathed out against Louis’ jaw, and Louis was confused for a moment, lost in the feeling of arousal and the sound of Harry’s racing heart. “I wanna be a vampire, Lou.” Oh. Right. 

“No you don’t,” Louis suddenly said sharply, his grip tightening on Harry’s back automatically. He felt Harry wince and tried to fight back the slight annoyance suddenly present, reminding himself that Harry was probably simply fooling around. He had no idea what he was even talking about. He quickly took control, flipping them over in a heartbeat and rutting his hips downwards in rough, sure movements. “I wouldn’t be able to throw you around like a doll if you were,” he said with as much mock seriousness as he could muster, trying to lighten the mood, what with a tightening lower region and a beautiful boy beneath him, face flushed and pretty little (rather large, actually) mouth slack as he let out silent gasps of pleasure.

“Hm, wouldn’t be able to, to, suck my, blood either, yeah,” Harry grunted out, words getting distorted with each rough grind. Louis figured they should probably remove the uncomfortable layers of clothing between them before the friction tore them apart, or something.

He was about to do just that when Harry asked something that made him pause. “How do I become a vampire?” he asked with complete sincerity, glazed eyes staring up at Louis and making his heart stop. Or, it would, if his wasn’t already permanently halted.

“Well, if you, um, die, with vampire blood in your system,” Louis explained uneasily, eyebrows coming together as he tried to read Harry. As it was, Harry was the most unreadable person in the world. He managed to reveal something else about himself almost everyday that would make Louis wonder how the fuck he came across a Harry Styles. (Once, while Louis had been sucking lightly at the blood on his inner thigh, Harry had randomly announced that he wanted to adopt a pet penguin with Louis one day and raise it as if it were a human child. Louis had nearly choked on his mouthful.)

“So, I could just, like, drink your blood? And then kill myself?” Harry asked, a little too eagerly for Louis’ liking. Harry would be staying very much human under his watch. He was far too innocent and childish to have the rest of his life torn from him and instead turning him into a monster. 

“You’ll be staying very much human under my watch,” Louis said lowly, voicing his thoughts as he bent his head back down to peck Harry lightly on the nose, jokingly but fondly nonetheless. “You don’t wanna be a vampire, trust me. It’s awful. You know how much I miss human food?”

“Hm,” Harry hummed out, halfway between agreement and question, but he left it at that, instead shifting to fit his lips against Louis’ as he rutted his hips back upwards, mouth falling open at the feeling.

Louis couldn’t help but feel slightly on edge about Harry’s questions, though. He knew he was being paranoid, and of course he was an open book as well, so - “Babe, don’t worry, I’m not gonna go killing myself just to be some sexy god with superpowers, I was just curious. Now stop looking at me like that and kiss me back,” Harry whined into Louis’ still closed lips, and Louis sighed and opened his mouth to let Harry’s tongue in, a soft, wet warmth. 

Alright, he knew Harry wasn’t an idiot (usually) so he figured there really wasn’t any reason to let his questions get to him. Instead, he fell into the comfortable rhythm of clothes being removed and bodies frantically moving together, and soon he was circling a lube-coated finger around Harry’s rim as he lay beneath him on their bed. He didn’t even remember moving there.

“L-Lou, stop being such a fucking _tease_ ,” Harry panted, hands swatting at Louis’ back as he let his finger catch lightly on his pink, fluttering hole. Louis grinned to himself, absolutely reveling in the way Harry’s face scrunched up in concentration as he tried to absorb every touch that he could get. After Harry dragged his nails as hard as he could down Louis’ back, which came to no avail, Louis pressed the tip of his finger in, making Harry’s back arch off the bed and into Louis’ body.

“Someone’s desperate,” Louis murmured, before shoving the rest of his finger inside in one swift, fluid movement. Harry’s body jolted and his arms flew out as he let out a barely contained yelp that dissolved into a series of whimpers, hips coming down to meet Louis’ finger despite the obvious pain written across his features. He was always one to enjoy a little bit of pain, always said it was relaxing. From what Louis recalled, pain had been anything but relaxing, but - 

“Lou, LouLouLou,” Harry breathed out, hips moving frantically as Louis moved his finger in and out at a hurried pace, making sure not to make contact with the bundle of nerves he loved to tease just yet. “More, _please_.”

“Alright, alright,” Louis sighed as if this was having no affect on him at all, when really he felt like he could come freehand just at the sight of Harry like this. He slowly pushed in another finger alongside the first and Harry hissed in pain and pleasure, eyes falling shut and cherry lips parting in a silent gasp. His hips bucked down again to try and shove Louis’ fingers in deeper and Louis took that as his cue to start scissoring and stretching with the two fingers, using his other arm as leverage to keep himself positioned over Harry, forearm balanced beside Harry’s head. Harry kept letting out these little noises, gasps and whimpers, his eyes opening again to reveal a glazed-over green, pupils dilated profoundly.

Louis inserted another finger before Harry would inevitably beg for it, reveling in the way Harry’s eyes somehow got even larger, his cheeks even more flushed. He wanted to take a picture of him like this and hang it somewhere. That empty spot in the kitchen would be nice. 

“Louis,” Harry dragged out in a low moan, his gravelly voice going straight to Louis’ core. “I want, I want you, I -”

“I want you too, what a coincidence!” Louis said sweetly, flashing an eye-crinkling smile at the panting boy beneath him. Harry seemed to make an attempt at rolling his eyes, but Louis crooked his fingers right then to let them jab against his prostate and Harry _keened_ , eyes rolling into the back of his head instead and body jolting. “Always so loud and responsive, hm?” Louis whispered, letting his lips fall to Harry’s neck. Harry shuddered and tilted his head upwards to give Louis better access, whimpers pausing for a moment. Louis lightly ran his sharp little fangs over the marked-up creamy expanse, wanting to bury himself in the way Harry’s breaths hitched with every small hint of pressure. 

He pulled away after a moment, not breaking any skin, and he didn’t miss Harry’s disappointed little grunt and confused pout. “Bit of patience never killed anybody, babe,” Louis scolded teasingly, but the childish pout didn’t leave Harry’s lips. Louis twisted his fingers to sharply hit at Harry’s prostate again for barely a second before quickly pulling them out, Harry letting out a surprised gasp as his thighs quivered beneath Louis’.

“‘s gonna kill me,” Harry mumbled, giving Louis a small smile that turned into another pout when Louis sat back. “What -”

“Just wait, alright?” Louis sighed exasperatedly, reaching over to the side table to coat his entire hand in more lube. “Wanna try something.” He reached down to spread it all around Harry’s hole as well, hooking a finger in slightly and making Harry jolt again.

“What, gonna stick your whole fist up my ass?” Harry teased, but Louis simply answered with a smug little smile. That was exactly what he was planning to do. “Wait, you’re actua -”

“Just _hush_ ,” Louis reprimanded softly, giving Harry a pout of his own, and Harry finally shut up, eyes fixed on Louis’ lips instead.

Louis quickly put the lube aside, hoping it was enough and that this wouldn’t hurt too much for Harry. He didn’t know why he suddenly wanted to attempt this, but he couldn’t picture any downsides to trying it. It wasn’t like Harry would be against it, anyways, he was always up for whatever Louis wanted to try. He could just already picture Harry’s flushed face and the babble of nonsense leaving his full lips, and the thought alone had him moving his hand down to Harry’s hole. 

He clenched and unclenched his fist for a moment, wondering how the fuck he was supposed to do this, exactly. Should he just shove it in knuckle first? No, that would be quite painful, even for Harry. He glanced up at Harry to see him staring back at Louis with a small smirk playing on his lips.

“And what are you smirking about?” Louis asked, eyebrows raised as if to say “back the fuck off”, or at least he hoped that’s what they portrayed, but Harry’s grin just broadened. It was too bad he couldn’t practice his expressions in front of a mirror.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?” Harry asked, a small chuckle escaping, and Louis rolled his eyes. 

“Of course I know what I’m doing, just, um, technical difficulties,” Louis muttered, and he felt very proud of himself for a moment for being the reason Harry’s laughter filled the room. He wasn’t even that funny, Christ.

“Put it in the shape of a beak,” Harry finally said, eyes still alight. Louis raised a questioning eyebrow. “I...I mean, I think, um, I don’t know for sure.”

“What kind of porn do you watch?” Louis asked, chuckling and putting his hand into the shape of a beak, tucking his thumb as close to his palm as possible. That did seem a bit more feasible. Harry just raised his eyebrows and grinned in response, pulling his knees to his chest to give Louis easier access, hands grasping at the back of his own thighs. Louis had to take in a breath at the sight before him, Harry being all open and trusting and so _beautiful_. 

“You’re the only porn I need.” Louis let out a shout of laughter at that, delighting in Harry’s pleased little smile.

“With pick-up lines like those, you could be the next big womanizer,” Louis teased, and Harry snorted. 

“More like vampirenizer,” Harry said, obviously trying to keep his face as straight as possible. “Get it? Cuz -”

“I take it back,” Louis muttered, shaking his head. Harry opened his mouth to protest when Louis shoved the tips of his fingers in, making Harry’s face lock up and his fingers tighten their grip on his thighs. 

Louis waited a moment, looking between Harry’s parted red mouth and his glazed green eyes and the five fingers barely breaching his little pink hole. He wondered vaguely if his entire hand would actually fit. Granted, his hands weren’t as abnormally huge as Harry’s, but it still seemed like a bit of a stretch, making Harry’s dark lips fall open in a silent moan.

Harry didn’t make any motion to indicate that Louis could push in further, so he took that as a sign to push in further. He quickly shoved his hand in a bit more, or at least what he thought was a bit more, but when he looked away from Harry’s lovely lips he was in up until just before his knuckles, and Harry whined high in his throat in an almost pained sort of way, his lashes fluttering prettily over unfocused green. 

“Alright?” Louis asked quickly, trying to hold his fingers as close together as possible, and Harry let out a shaky sigh and nod. He leaned over to quickly brush his lips over Harry’s and Harry let out a low whimper, relaxing slightly into the mattress, though his fingers still kept their firm grip on his own thighs. 

Louis waited a moment more this time, sitting back and watching the way the tattoos covering Harry danced as Harry’s muscles clenched and unclenched, the butterfly covering his abdomen quivering. Harry finally let out an impatient whine and Louis pushed his hand in even further, slowly starting to squeeze his knuckles in past the tight ring. 

“Fuck,” Harry croaked out, eyes squeezing shut, and Louis could see the tears threatening to fall down his face as he let out a ragged breath. Louis leaned back over to pepper light kisses over his nose and eyelids and lips, lingering at his soft cheeks and contrasting strong jaw. 

“Still good, yeah?” Louis asked, and Harry responded with a broken moan, already sounding so beautifully fucked out. When he seemed to realize that Louis would stay static until he gave his approval, he nodded again, with almost jerky movements.

Louis finally let his knuckles squeeze in the rest of the way, Harry nearly squeaking with how high his whimpers had gotten, and then suddenly his body was pulling Louis’ hand in completely. Soon, Louis was left staring at his golden wrist sitting outside Harry’s obscenely stretched hole, rope tattoo brushing his pretty entrance, and it seemed almost surreal. Christ, his _entire hand_ was inside of Harry. He couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of it being the other way around, of Harry’s hand inside of him. That was definitely on their to-do list. 

He twisted his wrist a little, Harry throwing his head back at the feeling and God, his fingers must have been numb by now with how white they were as they clenched at his own thighs, holding himself open. His legs fell open a little wider and Louis tore his gaze from fingers and wrists to watch Harry’s expression as he pressed upwards, multiple fingertips brushing over that spot and -

 _”Louis,”_ Harry whined out, breath hitching prettily at the end, and he seemed to choke on air when Louis didn’t move his fingers from his prostate, rubbing small circles over it, the unrelenting pressure tearing small gasps from him and making his cock twitch, precum decorating his butterfly.

“How s’it feel?” Louis asked, mostly wanting to hear him try to speak, while finally moving his fingers away, or as much as he could with the tight fit. But he could still feel some of his knuckles catching on the spot with each small movement, drawing whimper after whimper from Harry. 

“It’s - _uungh_ \- f-full, real full, like, and it won’t stop pressing at, at my, um -” Harry broke off from his stammering to let out another whine, and when his body shifted Louis couldn’t be sure if he was trying to move into his fist or away from it. 

“You’re so gorgeous, love,” Louis soothed, his free hand stroking over Harry’s inner thigh, and Harry’s legs promptly started shaking for a moment before he let them fall, feet planted on the bed with his knees spread wide. 

Louis pulled his hand back a bit, about an inch of his hand stretching the rim out before fucking back in, making Harry let out what sounded like a sob. His now free hands twitched along the mattress and sheets, unreasonably long fingers flexing, and Louis almost wanted to tie them up just to see the way Harry would undoubtedly struggle against the bondage. But then his pale fingers were moving to his chest, brushing over his own perked up nipples, and he let out a filthy moan as he rolled one hardened bud between his own fingers. 

Louis stared on hungrily, because God, Harry was just so _responsive_ , squirming against the sheets helplessly as Louis twisted his wrist around further, trying to reach as much as he could. 

“Lou, ‘m close, close,” Harry gasped, grinding down shamelessly onto Louis’ fist now between sobs, and Louis leaned over, swatting Harry’s hands away from his nipples to replace them with his mouth, his sharp little teeth. 

Harry bucked violently at that, a sudden mantra of _please please please_ falling from his lips, and Louis finally gave in to the sweet smell, lightly digging his fangs in just above his left bud, already flushed a dark pink. With a light gasp, Harry fell into a long, low whine as he let go, come spurting up between their bodies, body tensing up completely before unravelling right beneath Louis. 

Louis let his head fall down to rest over Harry’s chest, suddenly taking note of his own raging erection, but Harry squirming around slightly caught his attention again, a low whine barely escaping. 

Louis realized with a start that his hand was still trapped inside of Harry, snug against his prostate, and he quickly sat back to start on working his fist out. He noticed that Harry had barely gone soft, cock still full against his stomach with the intensity of his fist’s presence undoubtedly pulsing through him. Harry let out another light sob as Louis stretched his rim to the fullest, knuckles pulling out, and then suddenly his hand was completely free. 

“Fuck,” Louis mumbled, watching the way Harry’s loose hole visibly clenched. His own ached for something to fill it; he was almost jealous of how much attention Harry’s was getting. 

Before he could change his mind, he reached for the lube and promptly began coating Harry’s length in the cool substance. Harry hissed at the touch, legs instinctively falling closed and body jerking away. 

“Is it too much? I can stop,” Louis reminded him, pausing, but Harry shook his head, looking up at Louis with wide, trusting eyes, fragile gems of emerald. 

“‘s alright,” Harry assured him, voice lazy and face screwing up as Louis started to stroke over him more surely. He felt excited just at the feel of the thick, heavy weight in his hand, and couldn’t help leaning over to brush his lips over the wet tip.

Harry’s entire body jolted, a low moan escaping as his hips bucked sporadically. _”Louis.”_

“Yeah, okay,” Louis breathed out, hands reaching out to gather more lube before tracing a finger over his own hole, pushing it in straight away. Harry let out a groan and Louis looked over to see him staring hungrily at where his finger disappeared over and over again, soon joined by a second as he stretched himself out, breathy whines leaving his mouth.

Within moments, he had three fingers scissoring around and he couldn’t help but tease over his own sweet spot, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as heat coursed through him. 

“Louis,” Harry whined out, impatient and erection prominent as ever, eyes never leaving Louis’ entrance.

“Yeah, alright,” he mumbled, and suddenly he was guiding Harry’s length into his hole, the head stretching him painfully open in the best way. Harry’s head was thrown back, the long line of his neck covered in bruises and marks, and Louis felt a sudden rush of affection, the heat of it almost making him dizzy. 

“I love you,” he heard himself murmur as he sank all the way down, feeling so full that he could almost taste it. 

“Yeah, me, me too,” Harry stuttered out, breath catching at the end as Louis lifted himself and sank down again, angling himself so that his prostate was hit right-on. 

_”Ohhh,”_ he dragged out, surprised at how high and shaky his own voice sounded, echoing around the empty room. He let his eyes lift to meet Harry’s, who was staring at him as if trying to memorize his visage, scribble down every detail of this moment in the far reaches of his brain. Their eyes stayed connected as Louis continued to impale himself, the intensity of Harry’s gaze making his head light and his throat close up. 

All too soon he could feel the familiar heat pooling at his pit, could feel himself descending faster and faster and with a shout and an embarrassing choked off noise he was squeezing around Harry, coming completely untouched. He kept his eyes on Harry’s rich forest green _green_ ones, dark with lust and wide with emotion, and could see the moment he succumbed to his orgasm, hips rabbiting unsteadily and hands clenching in the sheets beside his navel and juicy candy apple lips falling ever wider apart. 

Louis let out a low groan at the feeling of warmth filling up his insides, almost a comforting presence. God, he was in way too deep. 

He hastily pulled himself off of Harry’s length, both of them wincing at the oversensitivity, Harry more-so after having come twice. In a moment he wiping the two of them up with a warm cloth he’d moistened, tickling at Harry’s sides a little to get a reaction out of the sleepy and sated boy. Harry responded with a hand swatting at Louis, one leg kicking out involuntarily as a sleepy murmur left his lips, something like “fuck off”.

Louis grinned before tossing the cloth aside and burying himself in Harry’s body, letting his hands splay out on his chest and nose tickle the column of his throat. He felt the sleepy weight of an arm fall over him until there were fingertips resting at his spine, almost guarding him, which shouldn’t have made him feel as safe as it did because he was a _vampire_ for fuck’s sake, he could take care of himself. 

But he found he didn’t mind the illusion, the thought of Harry holding some sort of power besides the power he held over Louis’ heart and being. He knew it wasn’t good to let his mind dwell on such things, but Harry was Harry and. He couldn’t bear to imagine the thought of Harry growing older, of living out his mortal life until -

But that didn’t matter, because he could simply live life for the moment, couldn’t he? Those worries could wait a few good years. 

All that mattered for now was his ever-growing love for the boy entangled with him.

\-----

Louis was awoken by a gravelly voice speaking in a hushed tone, coming from the other room. The deep undercurrent was enough to lull him back to sleep, but he was slightly curious as to who Harry would be talking to at this hour, much less why he would go all the way to the other room to do so. He did realize that Louis could hear him from anywhere in the building, right? Singling out his voice was like trying to spot a neon marker flashing in front of his face. 

“Yeah, I know,” Harry was saying, somewhat exasperatedly. “It’s just, he’s different, alright?”

“They’re all the same,” Louis could clearly make out on the other end of the line. “Don’t let him trick you.” It was a male voice, business-like and precise. Louis planted the image of a cocky prick in his head. 

“But he’s _not_ ,” Harry whined, very unbusiness-like. “He really, really does care.” He paused for a moment, the silence seeming to echo. “He loves me,” he finally said quietly, with an underlying air of finality. Louis decided to presume that they were talking about him. There weren’t really many other people he knew of that loved Harry. 

“He’s lying,” the voice on the other end hissed immediately, and Louis felt a seed of contempt plant in his heart for this mysterious voice. “He’s manipulating you. He’s probably already on to you. You can’t just drop your walls so easily, Haz.” On to him? What the fuck did he mean by that? And did he really just call him _Haz_? But that was Louis’ pet name for him…

“There’s nothing wrong with him, alright? He’s fine. Everything’s fine. You’re making something out of nothing,” Harry snapped, and Louis could hear the line cut off. Angry footsteps followed, heading back into the bedroom, and finally the bed dipped down with Harry’s weight.

Louis cracked an eye open to meet disheveled hair and lips raw from chewing. “Overprotective sibling?” Louis guessed, and Harry’s head snapped towards him. He sighed once the surprise left him, sinking back into the pillows instead and pulling the sheets around himself.

“Um, yeah, I suppose,” Harry mumbled, forehead wrinkling. “Just my older brother. He’s...paranoid, I guess.”

“Hm, never heard about this brother before,” Louis said contemplatively, waiting for Harry to elaborate. He never really did talk about his family or his past at all, to be honest. All Louis knew was that he was taking a break from uni at the moment but still wanted to get away from home, so he had just moved to Doncaster for the time being and found his own little niche there, working in the bakery and now spending most of his time with Louis. Louis made note of the way Harry always avoided the subject of his family whenever it came up, but never questioned it, figuring Harry would tell him whatever it was that made him uneasy in his own time. A small part of Louis also worried that he might scare off one of the best things to happen to him in his extensive life by being too nosy, so he tried to avoid asking too many questions when Harry was being guarded. But this time was no different.

“Yeah, it doesn’t really matter,” Harry said off-handedly, flopping a long arm over Louis instead. He snuggled his face into the crook of Louis’ neck and let out a warm sigh of content, the feeling making Louis’ toes curl. “G’night.”

“Night,” Louis whispered, leaving a kiss somewhere in the mess of curls beneath him. 

The soothing feeling of Harry’s breaths against his skin were slowly pulling him back under when Harry’s voice startled him.

“You know I’ll always love you, no matter what,” Harry said ever-so-quietly, his arm tightening slightly around Louis, and he couldn’t be sure if it was a question or a statement, but the words still made something tighten in Louis’ chest. 

“Me too,” Louis murmured, because of course he would, and he heard Harry’s breaths resume their even pace as he nodded drowsily against Louis. Within a few minutes, Harry was sound asleep, leaving Louis wondering if there was anything he should be concerned about. Did Harry’s brother really think Louis was just “manipulating” Harry? As if it was even possible to break the trust of the perfect boy in his arms, with his mannerisms and angelic features and stupid jokes. Everything was absolutely perfect between them, that was that. The two of them were surely and definitely in love with each other. He trusted Harry, and it wasn’t very often that he even let people into his life. He always feared he’d hurt them, things would get too complicated with his situation, but. Harry seemed to put all those nagging thoughts to rest, his presence blanketing around him in the coziest hold. He felt safe from himself around Harry. 

The uncomfortable feeling in his stomach was probably just hunger, or something.

\-----

“Harry,” a voice called from down the block, authoritative and all-too familiar, snapping Harry out of his daydreams of golden skin and pearly teeth. Not about Louis, though. No, of course not, nope, never. 

He turned lazily to meet short brown hair held up in a small quiff, soft brown eyes that completely contrasted his voice, and hands stuffed into the pockets of khakis. “Hey, Liam,” he said automatically, thinking that he should be a bit more confused as to why Liam was showing up here. He usually let Harry handle things on his own, they were grown men now. But there was a small bell ringing in the back of his head that he didn’t want to acknowledge, a sense of something coming that he knew was bound to come one day. 

“Can we talk?” Liam asked, skipping formalities altogether, expression hardened, but Harry noticed the way he shifted from foot to foot ever so slightly out of nervousness. 

“Not sure I’m allowed to say no to that, can I?” Harry asked, the words coming out more snappily than he’d intended them to, but Liam didn’t even blink.

“You still haven’t done anything, have you?” Liam retorted instead, and Harry froze. “It’s almost been _three months_. Now come on, let’s take this conversation somewhere where _it_ can’t possibly hear us,” he sighed as if Harry was just a child, looking around at the quiet street.

“ _He,_ ” Harry growled, and suddenly Liam was up in his face.

“You don’t understand, do you?” Liam hissed, and Harry forced himself to tear his eyes away from his brother’s suddenly beady ones. “If you don’t do something, someone else will. I’m trying to help you. You can do it in the most humane way possible, it won’t even hurt him. Just -”

“I’m _not_ killing Louis,” Harry said with as much force as he could muster, but he knew he probably looked and sounded like a grumpy puppy. “He doesn’t even hurt anyone, okay? We can make an exception here.”

“They’re all the same, Haz! What have we learned all our lives? Hm? They’re not even human. They’ve all hurt people in the past, they all have sins to pay for. Are you telling me he’s never killed a single person?” Liam asked, face void of emotion, all military-like, as if this was a speech he had been rehearsing for days. 

Harry recalled the rare occasions when Louis would open up to him, confess his past to him. The things he regretted the most, the innocent blood shed. But Louis was a good person, it wasn’t his fault. In fact, Louis was the greatest person he’d ever met, all laughter and silly pranks and angelic voice. Harry wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. 

Liam noticed Harry’s hesitation, though, jumping right on to it and obviously getting the wrong idea. “See? He’s _evil_ , just like the rest of them. He’s using you, he knows what you are. He’s trying to get to us, kill all us hunters.”

“I’ve never even told him about our family, he never even asked. He wouldn’t use me, he loves me,” Harry croaked out, forcing himself to disregard Liam’s words, as he had been for the past few months. He sometimes wished he’d never been born into a family of hunters, never had been assigned to Louis’ case, never had to pretend to befriend only to kill him, never had to accidentally fall in love with the enemy. It would’ve made his life a hell of a lot easier. 

“Harry,” Liam said in a warning tone, before closing his eyes for a moment and breathing in. He took a step back, making it slightly easier to breathe. Slightly. “Harry,” he repeated, eyes opening again, and his tone was soft. “We appreciate everything so far, really. You’ve helped a lot by finding out how, exactly, to become a vampire.” 

Harry wanted to sink into the earth remembering how he’d lured the information out of Louis all too easily. Louis didn’t even know anything about him, but he still fucking _trusted_ Harry. It made him sick to his stomach with guilt.

“I tried to convince the others to just let it go, let you two be together, that it was innocent, I really did,” Liam said, tone almost to the point of pleading, and Harry wanted to believe him, but. “But they wouldn’t listen. They’re gonna get to him, soon, if you don’t do something.” Harry tried to put on a tough face, but he could feel his lower lip wobbling. “You have to just kill him now, because you know how some of the others do it.” Oh, Harry knew. He’d seen some of his “colleagues” torture vampires until they were begging for death, begging for the pain to end, like ten-year-olds salting a snail. He wanted to puke thinking about how he once used to do that too, only a few short months ago. 

He didn’t even want to imagine Louis going through the same grueling process. 

Liam seemed to take his silence as an invitation to continue. “I have some vervain here,” Liam said, seeming to pull a syringe filled with the purple-tinted liquid out of thin air. It was one of the most effective poisons against vampires, burning at their skin and rendering them unconscious in higher amounts. “Knock him out with it, then stab him in the heart with a wooden stake, alright? He won’t feel a thing in his unconscious state.” Those were definitely tears stinging Harry’s eyes, and before he knew it, he was openly sobbing. Liam’s eyes widened in alarm, and he stepped forward, unsure. “Harry?”

“I-I can’t, I can’t do it, Li,” Harry croaked out, hands rubbing frantically at his eyes, but the tears wouldn’t seem to stop. He just kept picturing Louis actually being _dead_ , lifeless and _dead_ , no more eye-crinkling laughter or waking up to a cuddly little puppy wrapped around him. And fuck if that wasn’t the worst thing that he could ever picture. 

“Yes, you can,” Liam insisted, his free hand patting awkwardly at his back. “You have to.”

“No, no, I won’t!” Harry cried, shouldering Liam’s hand away. “No, no, no.”

“Harry, if -” Liam paused, considering his words, and Harry peeked at him through his fingers. “If you really love him, you’d do this. Save him the pain of a torturous death. You won’t even have to look him in the eye when you kill him. Just, do it quickly, alright?”

“No, Liam, it, no,” Harry made out between sobs, voice shaking. “There’s no one else like him.”

Liam gave him a pitying look, and Harry wanted to puke and strangle him all at once, so he settled for covering his face again and letting out another choked sob. Louis was in the apartment just a few buildings down from here, Harry was sure he would be able to make out the sound of his crying. Fuck, he might even feel the need to come out here to make sure he was alright. But Liam was here. Holding a syringe of vervain. And Harry highly doubted that Liam would ever hold back from killing a vampire, because he just never listened to any other sides of the story. He always wanted to be the good little one, rule bound and all. Harry couldn’t even imagine how he was once the same. 

He would never forget the day that changed him. When he came by in the park, knowing full well that Louis was there because he had been tracking his every movement for almost two days, his suspicions of him being a vampire confirmed when Louis showed every single fucking sign and even went on to admitting that he was a vampire. After sucking on Harry’s finger, of course. 

He remembered thinking how easy it would have been to just kill Louis right there, while he was distracted by Harry’s blood and the obvious hunger ripping through him, but there was just something about him that made him waver in his decision. Something in those bright eyes, in his sharp little pixie nose, in the obvious concern he had for Harry right from the start. He had told himself right then that he would only kill him with the wooden stake hidden in his pants if it seemed as if Louis would actually kill Harry. And if he didn’t, then Louis was obviously something besides a monster. 

And there was some sliver of humanity that never seemed to fade, even when his fangs were buried deep in his neck. Even as Harry’s world had begun to fade away, he could still sense that Louis was different, that he wasn’t like the rest, and it proved to be true when Louis pulled away suddenly, all terrified eyes and self-loathing written all over his delicate features, and Harry felt a very unfamiliar tugging at his heart and a rushing of heat throughout his body that had never been so intense as he stared up at the beautiful boy who was just so _human_ and seemed to just care _so much_ , and he wanted nothing more than to lay there in his protective grip forever and before he knew it their lips were pressed against each other and -

“I don’t want to force you to do anything, Haz, but this is really the best way,” Liam said, breaking Harry out of his trance, and he looked up to see Liam hesitantly holding the syringe out towards him, waiting for him to take it and follow the commands he was given months ago. He took a shuddering breath, forcing himself to stop crying and just _think_ , but his mind was a blur of guilt and hate and anger at the world for putting him in this position. Before another word could leave Liam’s mouth, Harry grabbed the syringe, keeping his eyes focused on a spot somewhere in the distance. 

No, Louis wasn’t a monster, but he deserved a peaceful death before any other hunter got to him. That was the one thing Harry could insure him. He just wished the universe worked in a different way. 

\-----

_Just one more night_ , he told himself upon stepping foot into his apartment building that evening, syringe hidden away in his pocket. He figured he could just whip Louis up with vervain the next morning, while he was still asleep, and he wouldn’t even know what had happened. It seemed like the easiest, most reasonable plan, his brain told him, based on years of experience at killing a number of vampires. He couldn’t even try to count that number. 

So he went in and tried to pretend everything was normal, but of course Louis noticed the tear stains on his face before he could go to wash them off, he always noticed everything. He took Harry into the bathroom and didn’t even ask any questions, just sat them down on the edge of the tub and set to work on moistening a cloth and carefully wiping his face down, as if Harry was some delicate piece of china, and just seeing the worry mixed with fondness in those sharp blue eyes had Harry tearing up again. Harry was the real monster, Louis was just a poor boy caught up in this awful mess, a boy who cared too much and trusted too easily.

“Sorry, just tripped on the way here, uh, hurts a bit,” Harry croaked out, knowing some sort of questions would come eventually, the lie rolling easily off his tongue just like the rest. He felt as if someone was quite literally squeezing his heart when Louis’ eyes widened and scanned over Harry’s body for any visible signs of injury in under a second before quickly flicking back up to meet Harry’s, looking lost. Harry looked away, eyes meeting cold, blank tiles instead, the guilt wracking his chest and stomach and just _everything_ , leaving a heavy sort of emptiness in it’s wake. 

Louis placed a delicate finger under Harry’s chin, lifting it up to meet his confused expression again, all furrowed eyebrows and worrying lips between his teeth, no sign of his usual attitude, just worry and care. Harry didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of this. 

“Babe, what really happened?” Louis asked, voice all light and delicate, and it was hard to believe that he was hundreds of thousands of times stronger than a lion. Not to mention loads more stunning. Harry froze in place, mesmerized for a moment by the tufts of fringe outlining his face and the jut of his cheekbones and the way his skin looked like it was woven from sunlight itself. How was he supposed to hurt the God of Perfection himself? 

“Told you, I tripped,” Harry finally mumbled, and it was obvious Louis didn’t believe a word leaving his lips, his expression hardening for barely a second, but he just nodded anyways, features quickly softening, because that’s what he always did when Harry was hiding something, he never dug too deep. He was just there to comfort Harry, even if he didn’t know exactly what for, and it only made the guilt heavier because Louis was the actual definition of an angel.

Harry quickly got up, almost tripping on his own limbs in the process, not wanting to have to look Louis in the eye for any longer. It was just too much, thinking about what would inevitably come the next morning. What he’d have to do.

 _You don’t_ have _to do it_ , some dumb and naive voice in the back of his mind said. Well, it had to be dumb and naive, because what other way was there? He couldn’t just let someone else come to torture Louis; he deserved a simple, painless death. No, he deserved to live for a hundred thousand million more years and be showered with gold and jewels and be treated to all of the best of things this world offered, but that wasn’t an option here, sadly enough. 

“Gonna go rest a bit, I think, ‘m tired,” Harry barely got out, tears already building up again. In a flash, Louis had scooped him up and laid him down in their bed, blankets tucked up around him. Louis stared down at him, looking lost and helpless, like he was trying to solve a puzzle that didn’t seem to fit together quite right. Harry closed his eyes again, not wanting to have to see Louis’ expression. Fuck, this might be the last time he would ever see Louis, if he was actually going to kill him tomorrow morning. 

He suddenly wanted to open his eyes to glance over Louis’ face again, analyze it, take hundreds of pictures of it and his tousled, fluffy hair and golden collarbones and gorgeous curves, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He didn’t deserve to ogle over this beautiful boy. He was the reason he would be completely lifeless soon enough.

He could almost hear Louis opening and closing his mouth, obviously trying to think of something to say to comfort Harry, or probably to question what was really going on, but in the end he felt a pair of soft lips brush his cheek and a tickle of hair against his ear as Louis slotted himself against Harry, arms coming to wrap around him and small head tucking into his neck. 

“You know you’re perfect, right? You don’t deserve to hate yourself over anything,” Louis said quietly. Was Harry actually _that_ easy to read?

“It’s not like that,” Harry immediately mumbled into his mess of hair, and Louis let out a low hum in response.

“Alright. I’m here for you, though, you can always talk to me. About anything.” Harry barely stopped himself from letting out a humorless laugh. Yeah, fat load of good that would do, explaining his dilemma to Louis. So he just stayed quiet, inhaling the smell of strawberry shampoo and hoping he could just wake up from this bad dream and not be forced into this life.

But when he woke up, Louis was still there, sound asleep in his arms, eyelashes fluttering delicately against his cheeks, and Harry felt his chest tighten and his breath halt. This was it, this was the moment, he should do it now. Automatically, one of his hands started to feel around his pockets until he finally found them. The vervain and the wooden stake. 

He felt numb as he pulled out the syringe, eyes never leaving Louis’ face, his little mouth slightly parted in his sleep. He didn’t even look like a vampire, except for the fact that he wasn’t breathing, his chest still, almost as if he was already dead. Which he technically was, but.

Harry took a deep breath of his own, trying to block out any thoughts that would stop him from this, any emotion, trying to put himself into the position he had found himself in hundreds of times before. Though it was usually a lot more effortless. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in another deep breath, and uncapped the needle. It was just like any other vampire, he could do this. If only for Louis’ sake. He opened his eyes again, focusing on a spot among the bedsheets and trying to block out any thoughts of the last few months. He _had_ to do this, it was the way things were. Without thought, the hand still wrapped around Louis’ waist tightened its grip, almost protectively, fingertips inching under his shirt and digging into cold skin. 

“Haz?” came a light voice, filled with sleep and concern, and Harry’s gaze quickly flicked back to see Louis’ eyes blinking open, slowly coming to full alertness. Harry hurriedly recapped the syringe and stuffed it back into his pocket, thankful that he didn’t accidentally crack it or stab it into himself in the process. 

“Yeah?” Harry asked worriedly, hoping Louis hadn’t seen the needle. Fuck, he should have just put him out when he had the chance, he could still just do it now, he wasn’t sure how long Liam was giving him. But then Louis’ eyes focused in on Harry, so sharp and almost turquoise, scanning over his face as if he was reading words in a book, looking so entranced like some impossibly gorgeous Disney prince. No, princess. Harry was in way too deep. 

“You feeling alright?” Louis finally asked, eyes meeting Harry’s, and Harry had to remind himself to breathe. 

“Yeah, much better,” Harry croaked out, and let out a stark cough, trying to clear the heaviness and, oh right, the previous night’s tears. 

There was no way in hell he could ever do this. 

“Gave me a proper fright yesterday,” Louis said with a small chuckle. Harry stayed quiet, eyes falling closed again and fingers continuing to toy with the hem of Louis’ shirt, his other arm coming to wrap around him again. He breathed in the smell of Louis, all strawberries and his favorite tea and just comfort. He could do it tomorrow morning and just let himself enjoy Louis for just one more day, couldn’t he? Maybe even take work off today, make the most of his last moments. 

It seemed so fucking selfish. But he was helping Louis by killing him before the others got to him, wasn’t he? The slight encouragement ran through his head again and again, helping the guilt to quiet down a bit, enough so that he pressed a kiss into Louis’ mess of hair. 

“Gonna tell me what happened, exactly?” Louis asked, tone still light, but Harry could hear the anxiousness laying beneath. Harry let out a low hum in response and moved his lips down to Louis’ forehead instead, soft fringe tickling his lips. Louis let out a small annoyed huff of breath but pushed in closer, nose digging into Harry’s chin. “Love, you can tell me, alright? That’s what I’m here for. I hate seeing you unhappy” - unhappy was probably the understatement of the year - “and I want to help.” 

Harry felt another small wave of guilt at the thought that Louis would never know why Harry had come in such a mess yesterday. He wouldn’t even know who it was that killed him. Hopefully.

“Just don’t worry about it,” Harry finally mumbled, and before Louis could sound his protest he quickly breathed out an “I love you.”

“Love you too, babe, you know that,” Louis grumbled out, though it was light-heartedly. He nudged his face up so that their lips were lightly brushing together. “And I can’t just not worry about it, you were -”

Harry cut him off by pressing forward and forcing their mouths together, and he knew that Louis could easily pull back to continue questioning Harry, but he was thankful he didn’t. He didn’t want to just start crying again and possibly even break and tell Louis everything. A small part of him wondered how Louis would react, if he’d say he suspected it all along, if he’d be upset, if he’d simply vanish in a second. 

He supposed he’d rather not know.

\-----

Harry and Louis ended up spending the rest of the day watching countless movies (Chris Evans couldn’t possibly have a chest as well-formed as that) and talking about random happenings and flirting like high schoolers. And having sex, of course. Louis acted gentle the entire time though, all featherlight touches and barely putting any pressure as he carefully sunk his fangs in, as if Harry was fragile glass, and that only made it worse because he didn’t deserve even an ounce of negativity in his life, nevermind death. Murder. Harry was a _murderer_ , fuck.

But he felt more confident when he went to bed that night, like he had wrapped up a good number of loose ends. He could finally get this out of way, have Liam stop nagging him about it, have the fear in the back of his mind leave him about other hunters getting to Louis. 

Well, until the next morning, when his mind seemed to loop back to yesterday morning and he couldn’t even reach into his side table for the vervain, could only stare on helplessly at Louis’ angelic sleeping form and try not to simply stab himself instead. Maybe he could, maybe that would make this all a hell of a lot easier. 

He skipped work again, deciding that _today_ would be the final day, no exceptions after this. He knew that Liam wouldn’t have bothered coming to speak to him in person if he wasn’t being serious. He’d have to do this. 

But it was even worse this time, somehow, even more painful because he was stretching his time to it’s limits and he knew this was going to end soon. Unless he kept replaying the same tape over and over each morning, postponing the inevitable. He couldn’t seem to find the same sense of closure he had come across the day before, and he felt like he had a constant bowling ball resting in the pit of his stomach. And the worst part was, he knew this would have to come to an end at some point.

\-----

It was three more days before he decided that he would simply go on with his life as if Liam had never showed up. He went back to work, set on tossing out the vervain soon, because he was starting to doubt anyone would even show up to check and see if the deed was done. It had been a few days and he hadn’t heard a thing from any other hunters, so he felt like there would be no harm in continuing the ignore the “problem”. He felt much lighter with his decision, free of the guilt that he had been lugging around with himself for the past few days. 

Well, until everything seemed to go straight to Hell that evening. 

It started with a phone call. Harry paused in his arranging of the red velvet cupcakes to pull out his vibrating phone. _Liam_. 

He quickly wiped his sticky fingers off and picked up right away to be met with a panicked sounding voice, surprisingly enough. A panicked sounding voice saying that other hunters were on the way right at the moment.

Well, there went Harry’s plan.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, feeling the guilt making a comeback, along with new things. Like worry, fear. No, he was terrified. God knew what would happen if the hunters got here as quickly as Liam was claiming they would, within the next hour. 

“Of course I’m sure, I wouldn’t just make these sort of things up. They want to make sure he’s gone. He’s killed people. Innocent people,” Liam said, and Harry felt like he was gonna be sick. Liam was still bent on his cause being the right cause.

“No he hasn’t, not recently,” Harry growled, then shook his head. “He has more control now, he’s completely fine. Look, I don’t want to -”

“Less than a year ago. He killed four people at a park not far from where you guys currently are. Four people, Harry.” No. No, Louis would never. He had been starving when he came across Harry, and Harry was still alive and well. “Ask him yourself. He never told you, did he? Wanted to keep a secret to himself, didn’t want you to know that he’s actually a mons -”

“He didn’t tell me because he never did that!” Harry almost yelled, taking a deep breath and giving a half-hearted apologetic smile to a customer eyeing him curiously. Louis had told him about killing one of his sisters when he first became a vampire, but that was it. After that, he never killed anyone else. 

...right?

“Alright, whatever you want to believe, but the other hunters are still on the way. Now, I suggest you either go kill Louis yourself now, or just let them kill him for you.” Harry shook his head, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. No, there had to be another way. He and Louis could run away, couldn’t they? Yes, that was exactly what they were going to do. 

Harry felt his his heart lighten again with this new hope, this new relief. “Yeah, I’ll go ahead and kill him now,” Harry said, quickly pulling off his apron and tossing it onto it’s hook. He gave a tight smile to the same customer, who now looked quite alarmed, and quickly made his way out, picking up a fast pace towards their flat and hanging up on Liam. He would get there, tell Louis, and they could run off. Harry wouldn’t ever have to face Liam or any hunters again, he could remain hidden. He knew all about sneaking around. This could work. He felt stupid for never considering it before. 

Within minutes he was at his flat, but just then another car pulled up. A car that he recognized all too well. 

Two men piled out of the black impala, hood tinted pink in the fading sunlight, guns barely hidden. They started heading towards the door but Harry called out to them.

“Wait! Wait, I got this, I’ll get him,” Harry quickly said, and the two of them turned to him in unison. Harry had worked with them before on a case, some shapeshifter in Florida, and knew they were actually some of the better, more humane hunters. For the most part. 

But he still couldn’t let them get to Louis.

“Harry?” one of them asked, sounding unsure. “Liam said you would have probably bolted with Louis by now. Surprised to see you’re still here.” Of course Liam figured that Harry would try to leave. He wondered if he was the one to send these two here. 

“Yeah, well…” Harry trailed off, unable to think of a reply. “You two don’t have to worry, you can go, I’ll ki- um, take care of him,” he said, quickly correcting himself. Louis could probably hear every word leaving his mouth right now. 

“Yeah, of course you’re gonna take care of your _boyfriend_ ,” the shorter one sneered, earning a glare from his partner. “Why don’t you go let him turn you while you’re at it, huh? That is, if he hasn’t already turned you.”

“I - what? No, no, of course not!” Harry nearly screeched. He couldn’t be serious, could he? Harry would _never_. Like Louis would even let him, anyways. “No, I’ve actually been planning to get him, I -” Harry dug around in his pockets until he finally got hold of the syringe, still filled with the vervain, and pulled it out to show to them. He couldn’t have risked leaving it at home, he didn’t even want to imagine how Louis would react. “I have the stuff right here, I’ll just go and, yeah.” 

The two of them exchanged a look, and finally the taller one gave a small shrug. “Yeah, and we’ll wait right here in case you need backup,” he said, turning back to Harry. 

“It’s fine,” Harry said quickly. “You two can head on back, I got this.” They couldn’t stay here, he and Louis had to _leave_. 

“No, I think we’ll just wait right here till you finish up,” the other one said with an air of finality, leaving no room for argument. Harry wanted to break something. Maybe one of their jaws. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? 

They could leave out a window? No, all the windows faced out this way, the hunters would see them. There seemed to be absolutely no way out of this. Harry closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself, and took in a deep breath. There had to be something, there had to be. Right? But when he opened his eyes again he still saw no other options, just two pairs of impatient eyes on him. 

“Right, then,” he muttered to himself, turning into the building. He hastily opened the door to the stairway, dimly lit and smelling of decay. He took the stairs slowly, trying to think of something, anything, but his mind was blank, filled with images instead of what was to come and the occasional creak of wood, momentarily breaking him from his trance. Every option seemed to have a flaw in it, all ending in Louis’ death. He felt almost numb this time, unable to do anything but put one foot in front of the other, until, all too soon, he was stood in front of the door to their flat.

He shifted from foot to foot, not wanting to open the door and face Louis one final time, not wanting to _kill_ Louis. Maybe he could just let the two hunters downstairs take care of it for him. They were some of the nicer ones, not about the torture and what not. Not completely. But no, Harry felt like he at least owed Louis enough to be the one to kill him and not let some professional do it in a business-like manner, not giving two fucks about the body afterwards. After all, he had been the one spinning the lies for the past few months. Though he wasn’t even sure where the line was between the truth and the lies anymore, especially when it came to the way he felt for Louis. 

“You gonna wait for the door to disappear, or are you gonna come in?” Louis called from inside the apartment. Fuck, it sounded like he was right next to the door. Harry quickly stuffed the syringe back into his pocket just before Louis opened the door, a playful grin decorating his features, all beautiful crinkles by his eyes and that cute little pixie nose and. And Harry let out a small sob. 

Louis’ face immediately fell, turning back to that worried look, looking almost scared by the situation, eyebrows coming together as he pulled Harry into the apartment, gathering his larger body into his arms as he closed the door behind them. 

“What’s wrong?” Louis asked promptly, rubbing at Harry’s back, and Harry stifled another sob into Louis’ shoulder. What if the hunters thought he was taking too long and burst in at any moment? What if they were already waiting outside the door? There was literally nothing Harry could do to escape this situation, to let it end in a good way. 

He clumsily reached into his pocket and pulled out the vervain, keeping a tight grip on Louis all the while, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck. For Louis, of course; not to try and soothe the terror and agony ripping through his own chest, his stomach, his wobbly legs, squeezing his heart with a vise-like grip, indecision still prominent in his every thought. Alright, maybe a little for himself as well. 

Funny that he was still seeking comfort from Louis when Harry was the one who would be ending his life in moments, wiping away any trace of worry from his features forever.

Before he could change his mind, or Louis could sense what was going on, he jabbed the needle somewhere along his fragile-looking back. 

Louis immediately stiffened, hands tightening around Harry’s waist, and Harry waited a beat for them to loosen, for Louis’s petite figure to fall limp against him, momentarily unconscious, giving Harry full control of the situation to retrieve his wooden stake from it’s hiding place in the top cupboard of the kitchen. But then a beat turned into a few seconds, then a few more, and Harry could still hear Louis breathing harshly against his ear, could almost feel Louis’ eyes burning a hole through the floor. 

“Did you...did you just, I, you’re actually…” Louis trailed off, breath hitching, sounding dangerously close to crying, like Harry was already. Harry didn’t know what on Earth was going on, why Louis wasn’t knocked out, but a small part of him was thankful. No, a big part of him. But a big part of him was also terrified because he honestly had no idea what was going to happen now. What Louis would do. The situation felt surreal, like he wasn’t even really there, but when he forced his eyes open again he was still staring down at the golden skin of Louis’ neck, wayward pieces of dark hair surrounding his field of vision. 

Slowly, Louis pulled away, as if he might break if jarred too suddenly. Harry kept his gaze on the floor, could feel the tears streaming down his face now, out of anxiety, relief, guilt, he wasn’t even sure what anymore. He tried to focus on the dark stains his tears left on the floor, hoping the silence could simply last forever and they could stay here frozen in time, that the world wasn’t about to fall out from beneath his feet, but suddenly Louis spoke up.

“I’ve developed a resistance to vervain,” he explained quietly, voice all too calm. “It took a lot of work and time, but it really comes in handy sometimes.”

Well. That made a bit more sense. So that meant Louis probably was barely even affected by it at all. The only difference was that now he knew that Harry tried to hurt him. That Harry _knew_ how to hurt him, had probably known about vampires already, about their weaknesses. Maybe he should have slipped the vervain into a drink instead; then Louis wouldn’t have even noticed it if he was resistant, and nothing would’ve happened. Regret pooled in his stomach, but Harry wasn’t sure what he would even do in that case. 

But he couldn’t very well go back in time either, he was stuck in the situation he was currently in. Though he wasn’t even sure what to do, or say. Instead, he kept his gaze on the floor, the silent tears seeming to be endless, and now he knew they were just full of regret, regret, regret. He screwed everything up, now things would never be alright between the two of them again. He’d betrayed Louis, the only person he really felt a true connection with. He’d tried to _kill_ him. Was he still going to kill him? There were two hunters outside, waiting to get their hands on Louis in case he needed “backup”. His only comfort was that Louis probably wouldn’t hate his guts for too long. 

Unconsciously, Harry glanced back at the door, but then suddenly he felt roughness scratching at his back and a firm grip on his arms, holding him in place, squeezing too tightly as Louis held him up against the wall with a swiftness akin to the speed at which he moved in bed. It would be almost sexy if it wasn’t for the rough nails breaking into the skin on his arm and the cold, hardened eyes tracing his every movement, every breath, with an intensity Harry had never even had a glimpse of before. Harry’s gaze flickered between Louis’ eyes, looking for some trace of the Louis he knew, but all he saw was fire and ice, which normally wouldn’t go together, but Harry didn’t know how else to describe the look in those vivid blue eyes, eyebrows furrowed together in a very different expression from worry. 

“You’re not going _anywhere_ ,” Louis hissed, and Harry felt a shiver run through him and tried to stifle another sob. Louis’ jaw hardened at the horribly disguised sound and he roughly shoved Harry downwards so that they were face to face, Harry’s knees bent painfully, controlled breaths brushing over Harry’s lips. “Please don’t tell me you were actually planning on killing me?” Louis asked, and it could have been said in one of a hundred ways, maybe even disbelieving and hurt, but his voice was as cold as ever, rich with asperity, lips turned into a tight smile that made Harry’s chest ache. He could do nothing but take in a shaky breath, eyes riveted to this vampire he’d never met before. “Answer the fucking question,” Louis growled, shoving at Harry roughly, and a new wave of tears sprung up from the pain and _Louis_. 

Suddenly his lips were forming around a word without his consent, moving at their own accord. “Yeah,” Harry made out shakily, trying to hold back the wetness blurring his vision as he realized that Louis had just _compelled_ him, forced him to speak, something he’d never done before. He realized with a start that his bracelet was missing, the one containing vervain, normally preventing any vampire from controlling him. He thought he could make out Louis’ face falling for a moment, his own eyes turned to those of a desperate person, trying to find his footing on something, anything. But his expression quickly hardened, and Harry figured his vision was simply distorted, hot tears swimming in the way. 

“Why?” he asked, and it seemed like a simple enough question, but at the same time it weighed heavier than any load Louis could carry. 

“Well, I’m a hunter,” Harry started, able to speak for himself again and slightly proud of himself for the way his voice didn’t break this time, but -

But Louis’ hand connected with his left cheek before he could continue. Harry let out another sob, absolutely crumbling this time, because Louis had _hit_ him. He’d only so much as pinched his nipples before, but now he’d actually hit him, and _hard_. Harry could feel the sting running across the entire half of his face, but it didn’t seem to hurt as much as the painful tugging at his stomach. He almost didn’t recognize the feeling, but suddenly it occured to him. Fear. He was scared. Of Louis. 

“No shit, Sherlock,” Louis snapped. “Almost thought you were a painter for a second, maybe an electrician,” he rambled on, eyes not even flickering towards where Harry knew his cheek was reddening from the impact of the hit. Harry tried to stay silent, but couldn’t hold back a small pathetic whimper. Louis’ hand was back to holding Harry’s other arm against the wall, vise-like grip seeming to be squeezing the life out of his pale limb. “I meant, why did you wait so long? Put on an act? Could’ve done it right at the start, hm? But you wanted to drag it out, make it more painful for me, didn’t you? Got an addiction to betraying monsters, making them think you possibly actually like them and accept them?” Harry shook his head rapidly, dark locks of hair falling into his face and clinging to the tears gathered all over. 

“Lou -”

“How many others have you played the whole ‘boyfriend’ role with only to stab them in the back later?” Louis scoffed humorlessly at his own pun. “All you hunters think you’re so -”

“Louis,” Harry strained out, throat constricting with how dangerously close he was to openly sobbing. Louis paused, eyes flickering to Harry’s lips for a fraction of a second. “I don’t do this to others, I _promise_ , I didn’t even want to hurt you, but I, it, I didn’t have a choice.” 

“So you’ve never killed a vampire before?” Louis asked, and Harry stared back blankly, mouth falling open but no sound coming out. Louis would probably hit him again, or maybe even worse.

“I, well. It’s in my family, I never had a choice,” Harry croaked out, eyes falling back to the floor. 

“Everyone has a choice,” Louis hissed. “Like I had a choice between hurting people or not. You have the same choice, you don’t have to be their little bitch.” He paused, as if waiting for Harry to say something, agree with him, offer his forgiveness. But instead, Harry recalled something else.

“Liam, he said that you killed four people. Recently,” Harry mumbled, a small part of him hoping that maybe Louis wouldn’t hear him. But of course he did, and Harry heard his breath hitch. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Louis snapped, and Harry found Louis’ hand gripping his chin and yanking his face up to force their eyes to meet again. Harry stared back at him, the weight in his stomach feeling like it would rip through to the floor at any moment. So he’d actually killed four people. He wasn’t fully under control then, was he? “I don’t do that, not anymore. I was just, extremely upset. I don’t voluntarily do things like that, you know me.” And he sounded just as emotionless as before, except Harry could hear the slight edge to his voice, like he was trying to convince himself as well, eyes revealing the Louis he knew for just a moment. Just a moment. “Unlike you, going around killing everything you see, not even giving anyone a chance to say anything for themselves.”

“I don’t do that. Only, like, to bad things,” Harry argued weakly, and suddenly Louis’ grip tightened again. “And you,” Harry paused, still trying to wrap his seemingly-distant head around the fact. “You killed people.” 

“Thought you said you didn’t have a choice, hm? When really you saw me as a threat, didn’t you. And listened to your hunter buddies without even asking me a damn thing. I still don’t understand, though. Why did you have to pretend you were in lo-”

“I love you,” Harry let out a small breath, not even realizing what he’d said until it was too late. Louis stopped in his rambling again, staring incredulously at him, cold facade wiped away completely, just looking completely lost for a moment. But then his expression hardened again too quickly for Harry's liking and he felt another sting on his left cheek.

“Yeah, love is definitely trying to murder your boyfriend,” Louis growled, and Harry felt his heart stutter at the word “murder”, shrinking back against the wall pathetically, but Louis simply moved in even closer, their noses almost brushing now. 

“No, it’s cuz they, the others wanted to, like, _hurt_ you,” Harry stressed out, almost pleading. He winced, waiting for Louis to slap him again, but he just continued to stare down at Harry, waiting for him to continue. “They wanted to, like, torture you. I _had_ to be the one to do it, I didn’t want you getting hurt.”

“Or you could’ve just warned me,” Louis said, like it was all too simple. “I could’ve kicked their arses. I have the upper hand.” He shoved at Harry again, almost as if proving his point. 

“No, no, they’ve never lost. Ever,” Harry said weakly, starting to worry again about not his fate, but Louis’, because those other hunters were probably still outside. Hell, they might be at the door this moment. 

“So you’re only option was to give in to them and kill me,” Louis stated. “Instead of, I don’t know, talking to me about it, seeing if I had any ideas to get them off my back. Love, my ass.”

“I, I didn’t have time, they’re right outside, they forced me to do this! I really, really do love you,” Harry nearly begged, thinking he felt a fresh stream of tears on his face, but it was almost hard to tell considering the way his cheeks were already drenched. “I’ll prove it, however you want, but like, there’s no way out of this right now.” 

“Tell me the truth,” Louis whispered harshly, and Harry could tell from the way he felt his tongue twitch he was compelling him again. “Do you actually love me?”

“Y-yes,” Harry murmured, voice wobbling dangerously, and he felt a bit of relief at the word. So he really did love Louis, despite being ready to kill him. It wasn’t just an illusion, something he was chasing after. The love was actually there, or at least that was what he believed the truth was. 

But Louis didn’t have the same reaction, instead growling before his hands were roughly pawing over Harry again, obviously looking for some sort of vervain. Harry kept his own hands pinned against the wall in fear, fear that Louis would be pushed over the edge and do something drastic. 

_”You’re lying,”_ Louis hissed, jaw clenched, his hands finally coming to rest on either side of Harry’s face, forcing him to look into his eyes. “You swallowed some vervain, or, or -”

“No, I didn’t, I’m not lying!” Harry cried out, but Louis wasn’t having any of it. He pulled his hand back, almost as if to slap Harry again, but he seemed to think better of it, moving both his hands to clench around Harry’s wrists again. His nostrils flared as he stared Harry down, his eyes absolutely livid, his grip almost painful. No, not almost painful. Very painful. To the point that Harry was sure he had multiple bruises and sprains by now. 

Harry shut his eyes, not wanting to have to face Louis any longer. At the anger there, the disgust, his obvious hate for Harry. He was going to die, wasn’t he? He felt another sob escape at the thought. He was pretty sure Louis wouldn’t just let him go, and Harry had destroyed everything that they had built up over the past few months in a matter of minutes. Just this morning they had snogged so thoroughly that Harry had worried over people at the bakery noticing his dark, bruised lips. Now Louis obviously didn’t trust him, the slight pain on his cheek a harsh reminder of his current situation. Louis probably thought that Harry would get the other hunters after him if he let him go, he -

“Let me turn you,” Louis breathed in a rush, and Harry’s eyes flew open again. Louis was looking at him in an almost smug way, because he already knew that answer to that, but Harry couldn’t help but notice the sliver of hope in his otherwise empty eyes. Or maybe he was just hopelessly pursuing a treasure that was long gone. 

“I, well, you, I can’t do that,” Harry croaked out, shaking his head and sounding unsure himself. “You, um, you said yourself you didn’t want me to be a vampire?”

“Things change,” Louis growled, his eyes turning all dark again. “I used to think you were some poor innocent boy and _I_ was the villain here, but that’s obviously not the case.”

“I’m not the villain,” Harry argued weakly, and Louis scoffed. Harry couldn’t help but wonder what was running through his mind at the moment. He seemed so confident despite the fact that Harry had so ruthlessly betrayed him, almost as if he had planned his scenario out already. It always amazed him how effortlessly Louis could improvise in situations, but he had to feel some kind of remorse for Harry inside...right? None of this was his fault, he repeatedly tried to convince himself. This was eventually going to play out with one hunter or another. 

“Then prove it,” Louis nearly growled, bringing him back to the present, and suddenly he was biting at his own wrist and promptly holding his bleeding hand out towards Harry’s mouth. 

Harry stared on with wide eyes as a line of the scarlet liquid trailed down Louis’ wrist, forming a small droplet at the end that lingered for a moment before gravity won out. His hand was almost touching the tip of his nose and he felt surrounded by the sharp, metallic scent of Louis’ blood, making his stomach churn in revulsion. 

“I can’t,” Harry heard himself squeaking out, trying to move his face away but with nowhere to go, pressed up against the wall as he was. “My family would kill me, and those hunters are still -”

“Alright, I get it,” Louis snapped, cutting off his reasoning. “But that does only leave me one choice.” Harry started to feel a sense of relief, waiting for Louis to release him and tell him to stay out of his life or something of the sort and keep the hunters away, which he would do willingly, but instead Louis’ bloody hand was grabbing at his other arm again he was being swept off onto their couch. 

“Sure you don’t wanna be a vampire?” Louis asked one final time, hovering over him, and Harry shook his head without hesitation this time. He wondered for a moment if Louis was going to kiss him as he leaned down, but then he heard the telltale click of his fangs and saw his pupils dilate profoundly, flooding blue with black, and then there was a painful pinch at his neck. 

Harry’s back arched up in pain, because Louis wasn’t being nearly as gentle as usual, seemingly giving in completely to his rabid instincts and forcefully drawing the blood from his body. He wasn’t actually going to, he wouldn’t actually, _kill_ Harry, would he? Harry’s mind wandered back to how Louis had actually killed people quite recently, when he was “extremely upset”. Hell, maybe he’d even killed people during his months with Harry without his knowledge. And here he’d thought Louis was some poor innocent boy.

Harry started to feel a tingle in his toes and realized they were going numb, along with his fingers. He spared a glance down to find them paler than usual, completely white against the deep blue of the couch. 

“Lou,” Harry made out, gritting his teeth as he seemed to dig his fangs in even deeper, sending a sharp pain throughout his entire body. _”Please.”_

Louis let out something akin to a growl, and Harry’s stomach coiled in fear again. He’d never met this Louis before, this inhumane monstrosity. Even on the first day he hadn’t been so reckless, pulling away with fearful eyes after only a moment of drinking. 

Harry couldn’t feel his hands or feet now.

Meanwhile, the rest of his body burned, his chest particularly feeling as if it had been set on fire as his heart worked uselessly to make up for the lost blood. Harry tried swatting a weak arm at Louis, choking out hopeless sobs, but it did nothing to get his attention. Or he was ignoring it.

He wouldn’t actually kill Harry though, that would be quite ironic after his claim of not killing people purposely, wouldn’t it? Maybe he was just trying to give Harry a fright, trying to scare him off and keep him from returning. He had to have more control, didn’t he? 

“It hurts, babe,” Harry croaked out, involuntarily throwing out the endearment, and Louis froze. Suddenly, his fangs slipped out in one smooth motion and left the gashes on his neck exposed to the cool air. 

_“Don’t fucking call me that,”_ Louis hissed, his hard stare seeming to bore a hole straight through Harry’s straining heart, and he managed to take in a gasping breath before there was another pair of sharp pricks at his neck, sinking in with so much force Harry was sure his own neck would snap in half. 

Louis drew blood even more recklessly from his body this time, making Harry ache and burn all over as the blood was forced through his veins at aggravating speeds, forcing a throaty cry from his mouth. It felt as if he had gotten carpet burn all over every internal surface. Except his lower legs and arms, which were drifting off into uselessness as well, the lack of feeling almost soothing.

Harry still found it hard to believe that this was the same Louis who had gathered him in his arms upon entering a mere five minutes ago. He never even knew he had this temper, this anger, this hatred boiling up underneath his pixie-like features, waiting to be released. He let his mind wander to thoughts of how easily Louis could compel him and keep him from feeling the pain, how he obviously _wanted_ Harry to feel like he was being burned alive, and it only seemed to make his heart ache more. Louis absolutely loathed him and the fact that he was a hunter and had tried to kill him. Maybe he really did deserve this. 

He started to see black at the corners of his vision, almost thankful that he was finally passing out. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could endure the fierce pain, his throat too dry to scream or cry out anymore, his entire body useless in Louis’ grip. 

He suddenly felt a wave of calm wash over him, his head feeling heavy as if he was drifting along the edges of sleep, and he let his eyes fall shut at the sudden lack of unrelenting pain. There was a warmth somewhere in the distance and he chased the feeling, wanting it to consume him, knowing it would bring him somewhere better. For one last moment, he opened his eyes, seeing wisps of dark hair, ends almost reddish brown in the sunlight, and his lips formed around a name that never made it out.

\-----

Louis felt the body beneath him go limp and pulled back from the weak stream of blood, not wanting to take too much, but his head was still pounding with anger and red and utter disbelief at the entire situation before him. And devastation. Because Harry was just a fucking _hunter_ , of course he was, of course nothing good could come into Louis’ life. He almost felt like there was no good in being a vampire, really, when all he went through was more and more drama from stupid _hunters_ trying to kill him and successfully killing his friends, and Harry - Harry _knew_ him, knew Louis wasn’t like that, yet he still stuck a fucking needle full of fucking vervain in Louis’ back in an attempt to knock him unconscious, _fuck_. 

He took a deep breath, lifting himself off the couch and watching over Harry’s body, completely vulnerable now and - no, no, his breath didn’t come out shaky because he was about to cry, it was just because he was exhausted. And confused. And, and, honestly, Harry wasn’t even worth being upset over, he was just a piece of trash _hunter_ , fuck. 

Louis felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes and angrily wiped them away, letting out a low growl. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to do with Harry, honestly. He had just needed to knock him out to give himself some time to think, and although he could’ve easily just hit him in the head or something he had felt the need to let his anger out somehow, and figured that letting it out on Harry would calm him down, but. If anything, he was just angrier than before, the blood a fuel to the fire, but with nothing to do with all the fire running through his veins it was slowly all turning to a very different feeling.

“He’s not worth crying over,” Louis seethed to himself, kicking at the wall and grunting in satisfaction at the gaping hole it left, just a few cracked pieces of wooden interior in his way, and with another kick he could see straight into their kitchen through the fresh basketball-sized hole near the ground. 

He needed to figure out what to do now, obviously. Harry, fuck, no, _the hunter_ had mentioned that hunters were outside, forcing him to do this, and yea, he could definitely catch a whiff of dead man’s blood and various other poisons for various “monsters” if he focused on it, over the smell and taste of _the hunter’s_ blood, so they were probably somewhere nearby. 

He could probably kill them effortlessly in an instant, but he needed to do something with the hunter as well. With one glance at his body, though, an instant tug-of-war of emotions was flooding through his body again, fury and bitterness and despair and a wave of memories with _Harry_ , of late nights spent talking and giggling as he tickled Louis and afternoons writhing about as Louis undid him, piece by piece, and suddenly he felt his eyes watering and his lower lip quivering again. 

He quickly turned back to the wall, aiming a punch near some dumb picture of them, but his fist didn’t collide with nearly as much force as he wanted it to, barely leaving a mark, and his whole body seemingly turned to jelly as he collapsed against the wall and finally let his tears fall freely. Harry had meant so much, and he wasn’t ready to let any of it go. 

He reached over to where the vervain-laced bracelet was laying on the floor, ripped cleanly off of Harry’s bony wrist when Louis had shoved him up against the wall. He’d never paid much mind to the fact that he was wearing it, figuring it was purely coincidental, not because Harry actually knew his weaknesses after studying vampires and _killing_ them before, as well. He thought of other vampires he had known, slaughtered by ruthless hunters with no chance to speak up, most of them living the same quiet lifestyle Louis did, and suddenly all the hunters had Harry’s face on them. He choked out another sob, not even trying to hide the fact that he was crying now, because fuck it, honestly, it was just him and Harry lying unconscious a few feet away. 

But he couldn’t quite picture the Harry he knew killing vampires, and his mind flickered back to the previous days Harry had seemed to have the light put right out of him, and nothing Louis did or said would get him to give any valid reason for his obvious distress. But it all surely had to be acting, to get Louis to play on his sympathies, to make himself seem innocent and weak. And if that was what it was, it definitely worked, because even now, eyeing over the cracked syringe leaking some of it’s contents onto the carpet, Louis couldn’t seem to make the connection between “Harry” and “hunter”. 

_“They forced me to do this! I really, really do love you...”_

Louis growled again and slammed a useless fist against the carpet. Maybe he could go kill those stupid hunters and then ask Harry to run away with him, like in those stupid movies he liked to drag them to every weekend. Maybe he could put this in the past and pretend it never happened, because he didn’t want this to ever have happened. They could just forget it, couldn’t they, and move on with their lives? Maybe Louis could even compel him to forget he was a hunter if it came to it, could compel him to never try and kill Louis, to never tell any of his family or stupid hunter friends of their whereabouts. 

But this was all under the ridiculous assumption that Harry actually did like Louis, that this wasn’t all an act. Louis wondered when he’d gotten so soft, when he’d ever cared for someone as much as he cared for Harry, we wasn’t even sure _why_ , honestly, but here he found himself hoping that Harry wasn’t lying, that he really didn’t have a choice today, that he really did love Louis, because it was his only hope and the only reality he could live with.

But Harry had actually tried to kill him, hadn’t resisted against those “forcing” him to hurt Louis. What would he do in the future in such situations? Surely he’d act the same way, because Louis knew from experience that it was rare for people to change their ways. But he felt like he didn’t really deserve any better than that, considering his own tendency towards instability when his feelings got in the way. And besides his attempts at eradicating Louis’ species from the Earth, Harry was really a decent guy.

Maybe they could have some sort of screwed up happily ever after together. 

He started to feel the resolve settling in his heart, planning on waiting for Harry to wake up later and telling him he believed him, even if he didn’t want to be a vampire. It hurt a bit that Harry refused to do something like that for him, to ensure that they could stay together for eternity, but. At least he’d get a little bit of something, right? 

He found his tears slowing down and hastily wiped at them, finding the almost powder-like remains of the bracelet in his hands, completely crumbled from the sheer force of his grip on it. Christ, he was honestly so lucky he’d never accidentally crushed Harry in his hands, hurt him in an unfixable way. 

Suddenly, he felt an uneasiness at the sudden silence in the room. He automatically glanced over at Harry, watching for the slight movement of his chest as he breathed, but - but it never came. 

Dread and panic suddenly filled his every movement, little noises coming from his mouth that he couldn’t even make out over the sound of whooshing air as he grabbed at Harry’s body on the couch and checked for a heartbeat, a pulse, fanned a hand over his mouth for some sort of movement, but nothing, there was nothing, absolutely nothing. 

Automatically he found himself biting at his wrist, shoving the stream of blood towards Harry’s mouth and forcing it open, all pretense of respecting Harry’s decision aside, trying to get as much as he could into the boy before it was too late. Because it wasn’t too late, it couldn’t be, he had to have a chance with him and fix things and this was not at all how all those rom coms ended. He would deal with Harry’s anger for turning him later, but he couldn’t just let him, let him, _die_ now could he?

“Harry?” he tried weakly, but there was still no movement, no sign of life from the boy. “Harry, please,” he almost whimpered, tugging at Harry’s arm hopelessly and keeping his gaze fixated on Harry’s closed eyes, dark eyelashes fanning out beautifully over pale skin, his expression peaceful as if he was simply asleep. “Harry,” he called a bit more loudly, shaking him around a bit more roughly before quickly returning his bleeding wrist to Harry’s mouth. This wasn’t actually happening, it couldn’t possibly be.

“C’mon, Haz,” Louis choked out, before he let tears flood his vision again and he felt his knees buckle beneath him, his head falling onto Harry’s still warm chest as he let out a loud gasping sob. This wasn’t _possibly_ happening, Harry couldn’t just be gone like that, never to light up again. This all had to be some sort of twisted dream.

He twisted his neck around to see Harry’s face, blood staining his dark lips, vampire blood that could have cured him if Louis hadn’t been so fucking furious moments ago and went to help him instead. No, he wouldn’t even be in this position if Louis hadn’t let the anger take over him in the first place. He’d been the one to actually _kill_ Harry. 

The realization made his choke out another sob and he turned to bury his face in Harry’s chest again, dampening the grey t-shirt beneath him. How could Harry possibly try to kill Louis if he apparently loved him? He couldn’t imagine even considering voluntarily killing Harry for even an instant, he’d do anything to avoid that, fuck. He, he really did love Harry, he realized with a start. Yes, he’d said it before but never with any of the weight that he suddenly realized came with the word. He truly loved Harry and wanted to spend the rest of eternity with him, whatever it would take.

But now that would never happen, seeing as Harry was slowly growing cold beneath Louis, pallid and still, and Louis had to try to push away the hope that maybe Harry would suddenly wake up, eyes flying open magically, a new vampire to the world. He knew that wouldn’t happen, it would’ve happened the moment the blood ran down his throat, and he was still laying unconscious beneath Louis. 

Now Louis was letting out great, loud, body-wracking sobs, his chest heavy and trembling in devastation at what had happened and what he was left with now, dread filling his bones thinking about what he was supposed to do after this. He almost wanted to lie here forever and let Harry’s shirt soak up all his tears and then drown himself in said tears, somehow. If vampires could even drown. 

Suddenly, he felt a hand grasping at his hair and he froze, taking in a sharp breath as hope suddenly engulfed him, feeling as if he was momentarily floating amongst the clouds. He sputtered for words as the fisted hand pulled his head back from Harry’s chest, but suddenly he was being thrown to the ground and was staring into the mouth of a gun and tip of a razor-edged sword, pointed straight at his heart and neck, respectively, as he lay flat on his back. 

Louis let out a low whimper but made no move to save himself. It seemed useless, after all. He’d only have time to disarm one hunter, maybe snap their neck, but by then the other would most surely get to him, either by chopping his head off or shooting a wooden bullet into his heart. 

The two men exchanged a look, obviously confused by Louis’ lack of will to fight. Even Louis was baffled at his own sense of defeat. But there was something else there, too. Peace. Closure. Calm. It almost seemed like the perfect solution to his guilt was death. Then he’d know what Harry had gone through, wouldn’t he? Well, not quite, considering he’d sucked all of Harry’s blood out, and - fuck. 

He felt his lower lip wobble again at the thought of how much pain Harry undoubtedly went through in his last moments, and Louis had done nothing at all to ease any of it. He glanced back at Harry’s still form as he felt another tear slide down the side of his face, tickling his ear. Maybe he could see Harry again in some other world, some other universe, wherever death brought him. Maybe he could make it up to him. Surely any place would be better than where he was right now.

He glanced back to see both hunters still eyeing him curiously, and one opened his mouth to speak but Louis beat him to it.

“Yes, I killed him,” Louis croaked out, almost jumping at the almost unrecognizable sound of his own voice, thick with tears and shaking, and he’d never felt more weak or stupid. But that was nothing in comparison to the constant guilt bearing down on him, the knowledge of what he’d done, of what he was capable of when he had lost his temper. “So jus’ kill me before I change my mind ‘bout giving up.”

Louis closed his eyes, ready the feel the sharp pain of whatever came first, the sword or bullet. Maybe they were right and it’d be better this way, no one else would be unnecessarily harmed by Louis’ stupid lack of control. 

“But...why’d you kill him?” one of them piped up, and Louis blinked his eyes open to see the taller one still looking quite confused and curious as his grip on the sword wavered. “I thought you two were -”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Louis groaned and leapt up, reaching for his throat while chucking the sword aside. Just as Louis predicted, there was the loud echo of the gun firing, then firing again, then again, insuring the bullets’ target had been reached. 

And it definitely had. Louis staggered forward, letting out a cry at the sharp pain emanating from the wounds in his back and the burning sensation in his heart. This was it, then. 186 years, all leading up to this moment. 

He felt himself falling forward, the pain seeming to fog up his mind as he made contact with the carpet, but for one last fleeting moment he remembered Harry and clumsily reached out to grab at his hand. God, he wished he could spend centuries more with him, but maybe it was better this way if he couldn’t hurt anymore people. He was a monster, after all.

“Love you,” he managed to breathe out, voice shaking with tears and pain, but his heart swelled up nonetheless at the words leaving his own mouth, knowing they were nothing but the truth, before the world went dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Romeo and Juliet much?...sorry I'm terrible I know.
> 
> Thank you so much for actually reading this entire load of. Words. Or maybe you just ventured to the bottom without reading it. That's cool too. I guess.
> 
> Um feedback is really super greatly appreciated, positive or negative. Like honestly, if you hate this with a burning passion go on. Tell me. I could use all the criticism I can get. Don't be shy.
> 
> Maybe you could possibly even tell a comrade about this? Pass on the pain???
> 
> I love every single one of you very much alrighty thanks byE
> 
> [tumblr](http://sleepinggalone.tumblr.com/)


End file.
